


Sound of Silence

by BrightYellowBumblebee



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angella: these aren't my kids but I'mma parent them all the same, Anxiety, Bow: that's your cue, Canon-Typical Violence, Castaspella: I'mma here to aunt you and I brought wine, Catra (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Deaf Character, F/F, Frosta: my other name is Toph, I mean they grew up differently, Octavia: I can't think of any redeeming features, Out of Character, Protective Catra (She-Ra), Razz: she has her own warning, Shadow Weaver: definitely has her own warning, SpinToss: badass and competent? Yes please, everybody needs a hug, so it would make sense they would act differently
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 86,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25269307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightYellowBumblebee/pseuds/BrightYellowBumblebee
Summary: Adora could vividly remember the last time she heard anything; it was Catra’s voice calling out to her in a blaze of background noise and through a haze of pain.--She-ra but featuring deaf!Adora (with a She-ra caveat) and supportive!Catra
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra)(hinted)
Comments: 337
Kudos: 912





	1. The Sword

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp, this little bunny bit me and I couldn't get it out of my head

Adora could vividly remember the last time she heard anything; it was Catra’s voice calling out to her in a blaze of background noise and through a haze of pain.

She and Catra had been racing through the corridors of the Fright Zone, building up speed and Catra had taken a running jump into the pipes that hung from the ceiling. Adora, competitive and refusing to give up, had attempted to follow her but found herself falling short of the pipe to crash into the metal floor with a frightfully loud noise. This had attracted the attention of Shadow Weaver, who had glided around the corner and focused a penetrating glare on the two girls. Adora was crouched on the floor, small scratches showing on her limbs from her fall, and Catra was leaning over her to help her up. In a fraction of a moment, Shadow Weaver had grasped Catra’s arm tightly, pulling her towards her certain punishment. 

Shadow Weaver had closed the door to the Black Garnet chamber, shielding Catra’s fearful heterochromic eyes from her view. The slightest wobble of Catra’s lips had echoed in Adora’s mind as she pounded on the door; her pre-pubescent fists making little to no impact on the heavy metal barrier. She’d glanced around and saw a metal pole, as long as her forearm that she levered into the narrow gap in the frame. Using her body weight, she’d managed to open the door a crack, letting Catra’s shrill scream permeate through the air. 

Rushing through the gap, new scratches joining her existing ones, she breached the chamber in a frenzy of wild blue eyes and unkempt blonde hair. She saw Shadow Weaver holding Catra aloft with tendrils of black electric energy and her vision turned dark red. She threw herself at the sorceress, grasping her hands around the scarlet clad forearm as tightly as she could.

“Let her go!” she screamed, pulling with all her might but she made no difference. Shadow Weaver looked over her shoulder; her right arm still raised and controlling the mystical energies, her left held by Adora in impotent rage. Her mask revealed no expression but Adora could see the disapproval raining down on her and almost relinquished her grip with the shame of it.

“Adora,” Shadow Weaver purred, unconcerned with Catra’s moans of pain, “let go. This worthless animal needs to be punished.”  
If anything, Adora held more firmly, managing to turn the sorceress’ shoulders slightly with her strength. 

“No! You’re hurting her!” Adora’s world was wholly made up of Catra at that moment; all she could see was Catra’s streaming eyes, all she could hear was Catra’s shrill scream. Because she was fully focused on her feline friend, she noticed exactly when Shadow Weaver dropped Catra from her electric grip because she plummeted to the ground in a heap of limbs. 

But she missed that the sorceress was moving to a new target: her. In the same instant, she focused her energies on Adora in rage, making her soar across the room with speed.

Her feet left the floor and she was flying through the air without pause. Her breath was rushed from her lungs by an impact in her chest and she could feel the wind whipping through her hair, strands having fallen loose from her earlier game of chase with Catra. 

Before she hit the wall, her head impacting a beam with a loud thud, she heard Catra’s voice ringing out, cracking in the middle.

“Adora!”

\--

She woke from sleep to a shaking of her arm. Opening her eyes, she saw that Catra was inches from her face, her blue and hazel eyes sparkling with mischief as she revealed her sharp canines in a wicked grin.

Situation normal then.

Her wild mane of hair was untamed and her ears were twitching in excitement. Although it had been many years since she had heard her voice, Adora could imagine her rolling tone and teasing lilt, rounded by age. 

“Time for training,” she saw Catra say, her mouth moving but no sound accompanying it. Adora hadn’t heard anything since that day she had hit her head years ago. Shadow Weaver had examined her and determined that she had injured part of her brain, leading to a life of total silence. Try as she might, and she did try hard, the sorceress couldn’t find a way to reverse the damage. 

Over time, her constant experiments to restore Adora’s hearing had tapered off, as had her interest in Adora’s training. As difficult as it was to adapt to no longer being useful, Adora found herself enjoying her life outside of Shadow Weaver’s steely gaze. It was helped that Catra seemed to be the only support she would get and she clung desperately to her, making it impossible for Shadow Weaver to single out the brunette. Without the cloud of Shadow Weaver hovering over them both, insidiously tainting their relationship with threats of punishment and resentment, they had flourished.

Over the last few years, things had changed dramatically for Adora; she’d had to learn how to function without her hearing and had to adapt her whole life. Alarms were useless to her, teammates calling out went unheard and she didn’t hear any voices or sounds. If it weren’t for Catra, she would have probably not survived this long and Adora knew it.

So did Catra.

Catra was her alarm in the morning, rousing her for training, and her warning during simulations. They’d devised a system of hand signals and gestures to use, completing their simulation runs in complete silence. It was only with Catra that Adora attempted to talk anymore; she’d resorted to signaling at all times with others and Catra was the only one who heard Adora’s vocalisations, smiling broadly with every attempt. Her voice wasn't bad, often just pitched at the wrong volume. Catra was her rock and support, giving her a shoulder to lean on and a warm purr when she felt useless. 

The hardest thing to adapt to wasn’t the lack of sound, nor the heady disappointment that radiated from Shadow Weaver constantly, it was the feeling of uselessness. She’d tried so hard growing up to be independent and responsible, taking accountability for Catra and her squad as easily as breathing, that she had been lost and adrift when she had first woken without the ability to hear. 

She’d cried so much, fearing that Catra would leave her now that she couldn’t support her but she found that her relationship had improved a little. Catra had become her support, instead of her trying to have it the other way around, and Catra seemed to enjoy the responsibility. She had thrived, appearing more content than before and happier. This development, and the lack of Shadow Weaver’s cruel oversight, had led to love.

Their relationship had evolved beyond friendship one night, curled up on Adora’s bunk with their foreheads touching in the dark. Their world was each other, nothing else existed, let alone mattered and Catra was purring so deeply that Adora could almost hear it. She could certainly feel it, reverberating through her chest and soul, comforting and warm. 

Catra’s clawed hands had traced up from her waist and landed on Adora’s nape, gentle nails tracing the large scar at the base of her hairline; an outside reminder of her head trauma. She had looked up to see Catra’s unique eyes heavy and soft gazing at her and she couldn’t resist. She’d reached up and held Catra’s face in her hands, her fur warm and soft. She’d pulled her closer and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. 

Although Adora couldn’t hear anything, she felt Catra’s breathing start and hitch before she pushed forwards, continuing their kiss with a smile. They’d not spoken about labels and titles, knowing that they were everything to one another: friend, lover, partner. Equal.

With a groan she couldn’t hear, Adora levered herself upright, Catra grabbing her hand and helping her along against gravity. She looked around the rest of the barracks, noting that Lonnie and Rogelio were already missing with their bunks made neatly but Kyle was sprawled out, mouth wide open and chest heaving indicating he was snoring loudly. Although she would never be as stealthy as Catra, she had mastered the art of being as outwardly silent as her inner world was, and crept passed Kyle on soundless feet. Catra’s hand remained in Adora’s, leading her towards the exit with her mischievous smile in place and a wicked glint in her beautiful eyes. 

They readied themselves for the day, showering and dressing with economical movement and presented themselves for the start of their simulation session, arms behind their backs, eyes forwards and smiles broad. Lonnie and Rogelio were also present, sparing small glances at the two girls whilst a clock before them counted down to the start of the simulation. 

Their instructor was standing before them, meeting their parade rests with an overbearing scowl and pointed glances at the clock. At ten minutes past, Kyle rushed in to the room, pulling on his red and white shirt with his boots unlaced. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he garbled, knowing that the other cadets were laughing at him despite the lack of noise in the room.

“Late! Cadet, you should be on time! Even Adora arrived before you, and she can’t even hear the alarm!” their instructor barked, making Kyle’s pale blond head wilt and Catra give him a scathing glare, that he thankfully didn’t notice. 

Adora looked towards Catra, not knowing why she was suddenly glaring but received a “don’t worry about it” hand wave in response. The gruff instructor began to explain the simulation: they were in the Whispering Woods and battling the evil princesses, it would be a group assessment, try not to die.

Situation normal then.

A quick set of hand signals passed between Catra and Adora, discussing in their own unique way their battleplan. Catra relayed the plan to Lonnie, Rogelio and an ashen Kyle, who all nodded in agreement. Being in a squad with Adora for so long, they had all picked up the basics of Adora’s hand signals, Rogelio embracing them himself with his reluctance to speak, but none held the fluency that Catra did. 

The buzzer sounded and their eyewear activated with holograms displayed over the top of wrought metal beams and robots. As one, the squad leapt into action, Catra jumping into the beams doubling as trees and the other four grouping together on the ground. Using their stun batons, they circled the first robot masquerading as a princess and managed to render it out of commission as it took a swing at Kyle. Kyle stumbled backwards, half scrabbling, half being pulled by Rogelio with a reptilian snarl and Lonnie and Adora flicked their batons to recharge them. 

Lonnie quickly looked to the ceiling, alerting Adora to a change in situation and then gestured to indicate an incoming hostile. Adora turned just in time to have her baton shot from her hands by a laser and dropped back as Lonnie charged forwards. Backflipping, she reached behind her for her staff, carried collapsed in her belt loop and lengthened it. She jumped back into the fray; Lonnie having been joined by Rogelio. Kyle was sat with his back to the wall, a large cross on his chest plate indicating he’d been eliminated. When had that happened?

Adora thrust her staff into the control panel of the robot, doubling as the princess’ face and it collapsed with a dramatic whine. She blew an errant hair from her face, having come loose from her ponytail and looked around, doing a sitrep. 

Kyle: in the corner, eliminated.

Rogelio: skulking towards her, still in.

Lonnie: running a hand through her dreadlocks, still in but not noticing the robot approaching behind her. 

Adora opened her mouth and made a sound, alerting Lonnie to her. She gestured to the robot behind her but Lonnie wasn’t fast enough as she was eliminated by a shot to her back. Rogelio was quickly taken out as well, leaving Adora and Catra, who was nowhere to be seen. 

Squaring her shoulders, she dodged the first two shots from the robot and parried against one of its legs. Using the momentum of the impact, she leapt onto its main body and attempted to slam her staff into its control panel. Unlike the previous robot, it was more durable and resistant and so, her staff bounced harmlessly off. Thrown off balance, she wobbled dangerously and almost fell from the spherical body of the robot but she was caught around the wrist by a familiar clawed hand. 

Although she couldn’t hear it, she was sure Catra just purred her name but she focused on getting her balance back. Catra used her claws to pry open the control panel and this time, the wires cracked satisfactorily under her staff. With a low hum that vibrated through her bones, the robot collapsed and sent the two remaining cadets crashing to the floor. Catra landed on her feet, perfect balance acting in her favour.

Adora slammed into the tiles, harshly landing on her arm and, to add insult to injury, the tile turned red and she started to fall through the floor. She stopped her fall with her extended staff, hanging limply from one arm and stared up at the ceiling lamps. A frustrated groan left her throat, although she couldn’t hear it, when Catra’s smirking face peered over the edge. 

“Need a hand?”

\--

It was brown ration day. Catra hated brown ration day; grey ration day wasn’t that much better but it was palatable compared to the impossibly inedible brown rations. She glanced over to Adora who had a frown on her face as well. Both of them hated brown ration day. It was the icing on top of a particularly irksome day. It had started well: cuddled in bed with Adora, pranking Kyle and destroying robots, but the instructors felt their performance wasn’t good enough and they were sent to run laps and more simulations, missing lunch.

It was dinner now and Catra was starving, only to be let down by brown ration day. 

Sending a meaningful look to Adora, she peeled away from the line, heading to the exit. Adora frowned (adorably) but followed her, abandoning her rations as well. As soon as they were through the door, Catra turned to Adora, enunciating her words clearly.

“Wanna sneak out some grey ones?” Adora smiled, her white teeth and blue eyes dazzling as she nodded, making a small sound of agreement. Often, Catra truly missed Adora’s voice and her laugh but it made her infrequent sounds and speech more valuable. 

Creeping around the corner on silent feet, the pair made their way to the back store rooms, hiding quickly when a Force Captain walked down the corridor. Sharing a breathy smile, they successfully entered the store room, giggling manically and sharing a look of accomplishment. Dropping a quick kiss on Adora’s lips, and enjoying the dumbfounded look on her face, Catra turned to the wooden boxes to try and find some grey ration bars. 

Halfway through her search, she felt Adora pull on her sleeve gently. Looking up, she could see the blonde standing next to her, a wicked cheeky grin on her face. 

And the keys to a skiff in her hands. 

Catra’s eyes glittered with poorly contained excitement and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. 

Adora deserved another kiss for this idea. 

\--

This was such a bad idea. They crashed through the underbrush of the Whispering Woods, having lost control over the skiff at the edge of the Fright Zone and just hanging on for the ride. Catra had one hand curled around the lever, claws digging into the metal, the other had been sacrificed to Adora’s death grip. Her blue eyes were round with fear as she vocalised with displeasure.

“Catra!” she shouted, her voice sounding slightly muffled as it always did, and Catra turned the skiff sharply left to avoid a tree that had come out of nowhere. 

Unfortunately, she ended up catching a low hanging vine and it knocked Adora from the skiff. 

All Catra could see was a young Adora, flying through the air from a burst of dark electricity, superimposed over Adora falling through the foliage, a wordless scream echoing from her throat and terror in her eyes.

“Adora!” she reached her hand fruitlessly towards the blonde, knowing she wouldn’t catch her but trying all the same. The skiff was too far away by this point, still careening through the trees and Catra saw a large tree ahead of her. She was going to crash.

Electing to jump and at least try to control her fall, she leapt from the skiff, hearing it crash and explode behind her as she scrabbled for a branch or a vine to hold on to. Scratching her claws against the bark of a tree, she managed to slow her fall enough (at the expense of splinters under her nails) to hit the ground with a roll. Quickly standing, leaves making a home in her messy mane of hair, she began to run back in the direction she came from. Her ears were pricked, intently listening for Adora and she thought she heard voices at one point but it wasn’t Adora.

Crashing through the brush, following the trail of broken branches and flattened foliage, she reached a clearing with grass and moss on the ground and streams of light filtering through, dappling the earth with light. Near the edge of the clearing, she saw the collapsed form of Adora, laid on her side with her hair loose from its ponytail and eyes closed.

“Please don’t be brain damaged,” she whispered, cradling Adora’s head and shoulders in her arms as she tapped lightly on her cheek. With a frown and a groan, Adora’s bright blue eyes opened and she looked into Catra’s worried ones. 

“C’tra?” she mumbled, her words sounding more out of focus than usual but Catra smiled. 

“It’s me, dummy,” she said, hugging her close and giving Adora a quick once over to check for injuries. She couldn’t see anything obvious but now that her heart wasn’t as loud as it was before, she could hear the other noises of the woods more clearly.

Including the voices she thought she had heard earlier. 

“I’m telling you Bow, it’s around here!” a young female voice claimed.

“My tracker pad isn’t working. I don’t think we’re going the right way,” a male voice responded.

“I know these woods like the back of my hand,” a confident tone entered the female’s voice, “we’re definitely going the right way.”

Catra’s head turned to the left of where she was kneeling, looking in the direction of the voices and Adora, noticing Catra’s change in demeanour, began to sit up on her own.

“What’s going on?” she signalled and Catra put her finger to her lips. A warning to be quiet. 

Through the undergrowth, two people joined them in the clearing. The first was a short girl with purple hair and caramel skin and she was accompanied by a tall boy with dark eyes and a crop top?

Catra’s brain malfunctioned. What was he wearing?

As soon as they entered the clearing properly, the two newcomers stopped short at the sight of the two girls kneeling on the ground. There was a tense pause where neither pair spoke a word, then the purple haired girl noticed the Horde insignia on their clothes.

“Horde scum!” she shouted and threw a pink glittery ball at them. Both Adora and Catra scrambled backwards, caught off balance and in a vulnerable position. The newcomers must be from the Rebellion, with the purple haired one possibly being a princess to boot. They backed themselves away as the boy readied a bow and arrow and the girl threw another sparkle ball. Adora and Catra ended up separated, Adora leaping right and Catra left. Adora continued to dodge the sparkles thrown at her whilst Catra set her claws to work shredding a net arrow that approached her. 

“Rebellion, huh?” Catra purred, gaining the attention of both the girl and the boy. Adora stayed silent, as she usually did. “What can we do for you today?” 

“Don’t play dumb, Horde scum!” the girl growled, an impressive noise leaving her tiny body. “You’re here to steal the First One’s relic, aren’t you?”

What? What was a First One? What relic?

As Catra paused to think these questions, she was caught off guard by another net arrow that pinned her to a tree trunk and knocked the breath from her lungs. Adora, on seeing this, let out a wordless noise of rage and scanned the clearing for a weapon, anything, that she could use.

And in the corner, almost hidden behind a cluster of vines and moss, was a sword; old and rusted but with an edge that could possibly free Catra. Adora rushed towards it, confusing the two Rebellion members as she ran away from Catra but they noticed her intent quickly. The boy started to chase behind her as the girl disappeared in a constellation of sparkles only to reappear just behind Adora.

Catra watched helplessly, bound to a trunk, as the girl yanked on Adora’s hair to stop her, her hand mere inches from Adora’s scar. Catra saw red at that; Adora was sensitive about her scar and didn’t allow anyone to touch it. Well, no one but her. 

As she struggled more against her binds, she watched as Adora flipped the girl over her shoulder, slamming her to the floor and continuing on to the sword in the same motion. She and the girl tussled a few more times, reaching forever closer to the sword buried in the ground when the ground began to shake and tremble.

Adora looked back to Catra, pausing midstride as she hoped for some insight from the feline but Catra was just as clueless. The two Rebellion members seemed uncertain as well, looking at each other in trepidation. 

Through the trees crashed a large body. It was easily taller than those gathered in the clearing, stretching towards the treeline and its multiple eyes stared at the foursome. Its eight legs menaced forwards and its pincers clicked dangerously. It was a giant spider and it was on the hunt.

Unfortunately for Catra, she was already pinned in a web. 

The beast stampeded towards the trio on the other side of the clearing, avoiding Catra in favour of the larger meal in front of it. The boy fired off more arrows, hitting the spider in the eyes as the girl distracted it with sparkles. Adora glanced between the sword and Catra, unsure what to do and they locked eyes, Catra mouthing at her to get the weapon. She nodded and rushed towards the sword, pulling it from the ground in one smooth movement. Her eyes seemed to unfocus for a moment, before flickering back to their usual intensity. She looked over her shoulder as though hearing something, but that was impossible. 

From across the clearing, Catra thought Adora’s eyes looked more blue than usual. 

The blonde, carrying the rusted blade, ran towards Catra, avoiding the two Rebellion members who were still fighting the spider. The beast was roaring loudly, making three of the four people flinch violently and it knocked the battling pair backwards with a swipe of its foreleg. Catra watched in helpless fury as the spider rushed behind Adora, sweeping her up into the air and letting her slam into the ground with force. Adora let out a gasp of air and her grasp on the sword loosened slightly. 

“Adora!” Catra screamed and realised that she’d made an error because the spider noticed her, noticed her bound and still state, and crawled towards her. Adora had propped herself up on all fours, shaking her head and her blonde hair flying around her. She glanced up to see where the beast had gone and saw it scuttering towards a bound Catra. Her ears, usually silent, were filled with a staticky white noise and the whisper that she thought she’d heard earlier began to tune in loudly. 

“Will you fight for the Honour of Grayskull?” an ethereal voice echoed in her head and she looked around to find its source. She couldn’t remove her eyes from Catra though, as the beast rapidly approached her and her rock, her everything got a twinkle of fear in her eyes. She felt a rush of righteous fury and answered in her mind.

“For the Honour of Grayskull,” and the clearing was filled with blinding white light. There was a ring of metal on metal and the roar of a beast before the light died down to a manageable level. When the others could see clearly again, the two Rebellion members were shielding each other, the boy curled around the girl’s head and Catra was still bound to the tree but Adora had moved. 

She was standing in front of the spider, now collapsed on the ground, motionless and no longer a threat to anyone. Catra’s eyes gaped wide as she saw Adora further: she had grown two feet and her hair was longer and blonder. Her eyes were radiant blue and she was dressed in a white outfit with gold inlay and a tiara. 

A tiara. 

“Adora?” she tentatively whispered, knowing that the blonde wouldn’t hear her as she was looking at the ground but, to her eternal surprise, Adora’s head snapped up and she locked eyes with Catra.

“Wha-?” she began, her voice articulating clearly for the first time in years and she looked shocked to hear her own voice, her hand flying to her lips. 

\--

Adora could vividly remember the last time she heard anything; it was Catra’s voice calling out to her in a blaze of background noise and through a haze of pain.

She could also remember the next time she heard anything; a tentative whisper of her name from the woman she loved. 

It was always Catra.


	2. The Sword (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She felt that the weight of the world rested on the fulcrum of this moment. Their choice here would determine consequences further reaching than she could comprehend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm completely blown away by you all so far and really appreciate you. Thank you for reading

“Adora?” Catra tentatively whispered, knowing that the blonde wouldn’t hear her as she was looking at the ground but, to her eternal surprise, Adora’s head snapped up and she locked eyes with Catra.

“Wha-?” she began, her voice articulating clearly for the first time in years and she looked shocked to hear her own voice, her hand flying to her lips. Her blue eyes widened alarmingly as she heard her own voice, tears gathered at the corners and, despite her sudden increase in size, she seemed to shrink in on herself. 

She’d wanted and wondered, staring at the top bunk in silent mourning in the dark nights. So many times she’d dreamed about what life would be like if she could hear again. Would she be happier? Would Catra still support her? Would she be needed?

A dark corner of her mind, one that she furiously squashed but was unable to make completely soundless, wondered if Shadow Weaver would favour her again. After she’d lost it, she knew that Shadow Weaver’s attention had been favouritism and deeply in her heart, she guiltily wanted it again. 

Trying to adapt to her deafness was the hardest thing she’d ever done; she’d centred her purpose in life around her usefulness and, although it hadn’t been said, it had been heavily implied that her usefulness met the same fate as her hearing. 

Learning to rely on Catra was hard, her independence lost to impotence and those first few months were a difficult dance of offering and reliance. Catra had blossomed for Adora, supporting her when she needed it and noticing her needs when she didn’t but Adora had struggled more. Fierce independence and pride had to be swept aside for acknowledging that she needed help and she often cried heavy, hot tears at night at her own worthlessness.  
In the darkest spot of her mind, hidden even further than her thoughts on Shadow Weaver, she was jealous of Catra. Angry at her and hated her a little. 

And she hated herself more for her thoughts.

It was a fluxing wave that they had adapted to and, underneath everything, the fact that their worlds revolved around each other helped immensely. Catra’s mulish stubbornness helped Adora realise when she needed assistance; Adora’s irritating ignorance helped her ignore some of the negative responses she got. She’d learned to look to Catra for almost everything and that meant that she had learned to look at Catra, which made her love her more. She was her light when she wanted to drown in darkness and her rock in the storm.

So, when she suddenly heard again, for the first time in years, she instinctively looked to her. Catra’s eyes were wide, possibly as wide as hers, with a hopeful glimmer reflected in their blue and amber irises. She had a tentative smile on her lips as she realised that Adora had heard her call, creeping up her cheeks until she was grinning broadly.

“Can you hear me?” she murmured and it was the sweetest thing Adora had ever heard. She crashed across the clearing to Catra, using the newly shiny sword in her hand to cut the ropes binding her to the tree and gathered her in an embrace. Catra mirrored this, her arms furiously scrabbling at her shoulders as her eyes searched her face. Adora couldn’t help but mirror her smile and gave a breathy giggle in excitement. She nodded tentatively and Catra let out a yell of triumph. 

And then the moment broke. 

The two Rebellion members had managed to gather their wits and stood. Upon seeing the spider defeated and no longer a threat, they had turned to the others in the clearing to see them embracing, the sword held loosely in the grip of the blonde. 

They’d travelled deep into the heart of the Whispering Woods to find this piece of First One’s tech and they weren’t going to leave without it.

(“My mum’ll kill me Bow! At least if I can bring the sword back, she might overlook me sneaking out.”

“Glimmer, nothing will get your mum to overlook that.”)

Using the element of surprise, the girl sparkled out of existence and teleported to their side, yanking the sword from unresisting fingers. Adora and Catra looked up in surprise and Adora let out a small jump. 

Following this, she was surrounded by a bright light, similar to the one that accompanied her transformation, and when it dissipated, she was back to normal Adora again. Catra could see the exact moment that she registered that her newly rediscovered hearing hadn’t followed her back through her transformation. The newly shining light left her eyes as Adora was plunged back into perpetual silence. 

Catra thought it was the highest form of cruelty, to give Adora something that she had wanted for years and then snatch it away again. She’d watched instructors, other cadets, even Shadow Weaver looking down on Adora but this hurt the most. She’d had a taste, a small morsel, of her deepest dream and the purple haired girl had taken it away again. Sure, she had to become someone else to hear again but was that so bad? 

It seemed that Adora’s new found hearing was the result of her transformation, and the transformation was the result of the sword, then Catra needed to get that sword back. For Adora. If it gave Adora her hearing back, made her happy again, Catra would permanently attach that sword to her hand.

Turning her body sharply away from Adora, whose world had returned to oppressive silence and whose eyes were filling with furious tears, she snarled at the Rebellion girl. She was hugging the sword to her chest with both arms, appearing both fearful and angry but all Catra could think of was a kneeling Adora behind her, moaning quietly in distress with her hands gripping her loose hair tightly. 

“Give it back!” she growled, crouching down and preparing to leap at her, seeing red. The girl’s cheeks puffed as her lips pursed and her eyes glittered.

“No, it’s ours!” she huffed back, brow furrowed and hugged the sharp blade closer. The boy joined her at her shoulder, arrow drawn, not aiming, and mouth downturned. 

“It’s clearly Adora’s! She’s the one who defeated the spider with it,” Catra spat. She was going to get that sword, one way or another and she began to gear up for a fight. The Rebellion members seemed to notice this as the boy’s bow rose, arrow aiming at Catra’s head and the girl fell backwards behind him for protection.  
Just before she could leap, Catra felt a hand grasp hers gently, Adora looked up and shook her head. Her loose hair around her shoulders shook with the motion and her eyes were impossibly sad.

“Don’t worry Catra,” she muttered, her volume affected slightly by her deafness leading to a subtle change in her voice, unnoticed by the other two in the clearing. 

‘You tell me not to worry,’ she thought, fur bristling on Adora’s behalf, ‘but you need me to. No one else will. Not even yourself.’ It crushed her heart to see Adora giving up on something she so desperately wanted, desired completely. She knew what the blonde was doing: it was getting late and they would miss rollcall and lights out if they didn’t leave soon, meaning demerits. Demerits meant punishment and punishment meant pain. The skiff ride seemed hours ago now and the sky was darkening quickly, impending twilight upon them. Adora wanted that sword, badly, but she was prioritising getting them both back to base. She had learned to lean on her but fundamentally, Adora would always be Catra’s self-sacrificing idiot. Here she was, giving up her dream to prevent her and Catra getting punishments. 

Wind blowing from her sails, Catra relaxed back to the ground and took Adora in her arms again. She folded her arms around the blonde’s shoulders, cradling her head in the crook of her neck and she could feel tears starting to dampen the fur on her neck. Glaring up at the others with hatred, she soothed her hands through Adora’s hair, giving her a moment to get out her frustration and sadness before they headed back to base. 

“Well, go away then,” she grimaced, “you got what you wanted. Leave us alone.” 

The other two in the clearing exchanged a look, having been prepared for another fight. The boy lowering his bow and gave the two on the ground a look with shimmering eyes, noticing the subtle shaking of the blonde’s shoulders. He seemed to look pleadingly at the girl, mouth trembling as he sheathed his weapons.

“Glimmer-“ he started but was quickly cut off.

“No Bow,” the girl said. She tried to hug the sword even tighter but relaxed slightly as the sharp edges began to cut into her arms. “We’re taking this back to Brightmoon.” 

“But what is it? Why did it change that girl into a different person?” he asked, arms out beseechingly towards her. 

“I don’t know,” she muttered, “but mum will.”

It was then that Bow’s eyes lit up and his face took on a giddy expression. “We can ask your mum!” he cried in excitement.

Catra was watching this exchange with bemusement, eyes darting back and forth as the two argued in front of them about the merits of discussing the sword and transformation with Glimmer’s mother. 

“It’d mean they’d have to come to Brightmoon with us!” the girl grimaced, throwing a dirty look towards Catra and Adora. “I’m not bringing Horde scum into Brightmoon!” 

“But they need answers!”

“The only way they’ll get to Brightmoon is as prisoners!”

Catra stuck her tongue out childishly in response, pleased by the sharp rise of red in the girl’s cheeks. “Well, we’re not going to Brightmoon with you,” Catra said, “we’re going back to the Fright Zone.” Tapping Adora on her shoulder, she motioned that they were leaving and they both rose. As Adora was brushing down her trousers, Catra wiped away lingering tears from the blonde’s eyelashes and they straightened their shirts sharply. Holding each other’s hand and exchanging a glance, they turned to set off back to the Fright Zone, away from the crashed skiff, the sword and Adora’s mysterious transformation, but they were halted abruptly. 

It seemed that Bow had taken it upon himself to make the decision for everyone and had grabbed a remnant of rope from the ground, quickly binding their joined hands together. Catra looked down at the binding and up to Adora, who had a small smile on her face and squeezed her hand in reassurance. Catra smiled back in response, dropping the contented expression as she turned back to the Rebellion members.

Looking over her shoulder at Bow, she adopted a furious scowl. “What do you think you’re doing?” she grumbled. Bow seemed to quake at her look (disappointing since she wasn’t even glaring hard) but squared his shoulders.

“You’re now our prisoners,” he said, lips quirking up at the corners, “and you’re coming back to Brightmoon with us.”

Catra paused for a moment. She and Adora could easily break the binding and return to the Fright Zone. They could pretend that today hadn’t happened, go back to their squad and potentially be sent out to the front lines later to fight and/or die for the Horde.

Or, they could not. 

They could go with the rebels, protected by the pretence of capture, find out some answers and live for themselves for once. She could take Adora away from the pitying, disapproving looks of the others, give her a chance at a life outside the Horde, protect her from Shadow Weaver forever. 

She felt that the weight of the world rested on the fulcrum of this moment. Their choice here would determine consequences further reaching than she could comprehend. She looked to Adora; eyebrows raised in question. Adora didn’t hear any of the exchange that had just happened but the encompassing trust in her eyes, her trust in Catra, sealed her choice. 

“So, we’re your prisoners, huh?”

\--

They crossed into the village of Thaymor just as dusk was reaching the horizon. The Whispering Woods had taken on an imposing, eerie feel, further heightening its shadows and lengthening its branches into reaching claws. On the edge of the village, huts could be seen surrounding a central fire pit, lit with a merrily burning bonfire. The faun-like inhabitants were dancing around it, streamers flying from their hands and the smell of food heavy in the air. 

Bow and Glimmer, who had formally introduced themselves during the walk, exchanged a look again and their eyes landed disapprovingly on Adora and Catra. More specifically: on their clothes. 

“You two need to change,” Bow said, gesturing to his clothes to help Adora understand. During the trek to the village, they had discovered that Adora was deaf and that she mainly communicated through gestures. Bow had gone a little misty eyed at the discovery, taking Adora’s unbound hand and enunciating his name clearly. Adora had repeated it back tentatively, to Bow’s utter delight.

(To Catra’s utter delight, she had mistaken Glimmer’s name for “Glitter” and she had cackled wildly at that. Although Adora had corrected herself, Catra refused to call her anything else now. Glimmer had been livid, thinking it was a cruel joke from Adora, but lightened up towards the blonde when she’d corrected herself. Catra was still on the hitlist though.)

“Why?” Catra asked, unsure what was wrong with their clothes. She and Adora looked fine to her, clothes a little disordered from their earlier fall from the skiff and fight with the rebels, but would pass a cursory inspection. Adora was in her usual red jacket with white undershirt and grey pants, she was in her red and black catsuit, hair held back with her faceplate. 

“Because you look like Horde soldiers,” Glimmer grumbled, the sword slung across her back to free up her hands for the journey. Catra’s eyebrows raised in disdain as Adora’s lips twitched with humour. She recognised that look on Catra’s face and it usually meant that she was being delightfully mean.

“Because your outfits are so much better,” the feline scoffed, making Adora giggle as she read her lips. Bow and Glimmer exchanged a look; what was wrong with their clothes. Bow was in a heart embellished crop top and blue pants whilst Glimmer was wearing her glittering tunic and shorts with a cape over her shoulders. Glimmer frowned heavily, still finding nothing wrong with her outfit but gamely sacrificed her cape to the cause. Using one of his arrows, Bow sliced along the fabric, bisecting it and throwing them around the two Horde member’s shoulders, covering the symbols on their backs. 

Although the feeble tie had been released some time ago, Adora had kept hold of Catra’s hand for the journey and gave her a little spin, as though they were dancing. Catra curled under Adora’s arm, her half cape flaring behind her with the movement and her hair slapping Adora in the face. As a result, Adora burst out in a fit of giggles, her mouth full of Catra’s hair, as an eager Bow and reluctant Glimmer joined in. 

Bow, getting into the motion of it, started clapping his hands, a futile beat for the person controlling the spin, and plucked two flowers from a nearby bush. He placed the first in Catra’s hair, just behind her headplate, above her left eye. Approaching Adora more carefully and from the front so she could see him coming, he propped hers behind her right ear, loose blonde hair mingling with the petals, making her seem softer and more beautiful to Catra. 

“I don’t like it,” Catra said, catching Adora’s eyes. Bow and Glimmer frowned at her words, but Adora’s face lit up at it, knowing the meaning behind the words. In the half light of the barracks, whispering words to each other before Adora lost her hearing, Catra had once said: “I don’t like you.” After she had lost her hearing, she understood the hidden meaning of the words; Catra didn’t like her because she loved her. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand you two,” Glimmer grumbled as Catra and Adora stared at each other, before turning sharply on her heel to breach the boundary of the village. Bow shook his head helplessly and followed, with the two girls giggling and traipsing behind, hand in hand. 

\--

A wonderous cacophony of music and laughter permeated through Thaymor and reached Catra’s perked ears. She wasn’t sure what was going on but everyone seemed happy and cheerful and awash with joy. 

“What’s going on?” she asked, her hand still in Adora’s grip as the blonde’s head whipped from side to side, trying to take in all the sights on offer. She seemed particularly taken with a story that was being told in one corner, faun children sitting in a half circle around an elder, who was shaping his hands into birds and creatures to his audience. 

“It’s a party,” Bow responded nonchalantly, but paused at the blank look on Catra’s face. “You don’t know what a party is?” Catra’s nonplussed face persisted and Bow took Adora’s shoulders, taking her attention away from the storyteller and posing the same question to her. Her brows furrowed in confusion, quickly glancing over to Catra to see if she’d misread Bow’s lips but Catra offered no answers for her. 

The blonde shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said and Bow, seemingly understanding that she didn’t know what a party was, not that she didn’t catch the question, despaired to Glimmer.

“They don’t know what a party is!” he wailed, gripping the short girl’s shoulders and shaking her with distress. He pulled himself out of his spiral with a determined look in his eyes and a closed fist. “We have to stay!”

“Bow, we don’t have time,” Glimmer said, secretly wanting to stay at the festival but knowing they had to get back to Brightmoon. It was a fruitless protest though as Bow had already dragged the two girls over to a food vendor. Buying a pastry, he tore it in half and handed them off to the girls behind him. They took the strange food in their hands with trepidation and, exchanging a look, they both took a bite. A brief pause later, Adora had let out a wordless sound of amazement and Catra had finished her half in two bites. They kept their eyes on each other and smiled widely.

“Better than the grey ones!” they both said at the same time, Adora’s voice slightly too loud for the group but it made Bow laugh all the same. Even Glimmer spared a small smile at the pair and their overt enjoyment at the food.

From that point onwards, it was like the floodgates had opened and the foursome began to enjoy the party, sampling all the different foods and dancing with the crowd. Discovering that food wasn’t necessarily in bar form and came in other colours beyond brown and grey was a revelation to the pair and they approached each bite with vigour. Catra learned that Adora’s dancing was as bad as it had been earlier, not caring for the beat that was reverberating through the ground and spinning around without a care in the world.

It was nice to see her carefree; she had seemed like she was labouring under a tremendous weight for so long. Her inherent anxiety coupled with her lifestyle change had meant that Adora seemed to have the entire world resting on her shoulders and Catra didn’t think she’d ever seen her throw her head back and laugh with complete abandonment. 

If being with the Rebellion meant that Adora could have a life like this, where did Catra sign up?

Seeing Adora’s flushed face and wide smile, dancing to a beat that existed only in her mind (and certainly didn’t match that being played around the bonfire), made Catra love her more than she already did. She would do anything for her.

Adora beckoned her up to join her and she began to rise only to be spurred on by hands on her shoulders from Bow and Glimmer.

“Go get her, Tiger!” Bow crowed as Glimmer cackled wickedly. She glared at the pair, but walked towards Adora to join her in her wildly carefree dancing. Bow and Glimmer continued to sit on the low logs, enjoying the fire and drinks, a circle of flowers sitting on Glimmer’s brow and watched the two Horde cadets twirling innocuously with the villagers, stumbling on their steps and laughing gayly.

They had never met any Horde soldiers before but these girls struck them as different; they were less concerned with the Horde and more concerned with each other. Like the world could burn but they wouldn’t mind if they were together.

After a while dancing with Adora, something that she’d never done before, Catra pulled her back to the seating area, red faced and breathless, when she stopped short abruptly. Turning, she saw Adora’s eyes fixed off to the side, transfixed in wonder.

“Catra, what’s that?” she asked, glancing at her for the answer but reluctant to take her eyes off the magnificent beast in front of her. Catra shrugged slightly, not knowing either. It had fewer legs than the spider and a long straight spine. Its eyes were liquid dark and its fur was darker than Catra’s, a greyish brown. 

Bow, noticing their pause midstride, stood from the benches and came up to them. 

“What’s wrong, guys?” he asked and Catra pointed towards the beast.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“It’s a horse,” he replied. Catra pulled Adora’s attention back and he repeated himself.

“It’s majestic,” Adora whispered, eyes still sparkling with admiration. Bow smiled gently at her and took her shoulders. 

“Want to say hello?” he offered and Catra saw the exact moment that Adora’s heart started thumping wildly. She whined in nervous excitement, scrubbing her hand over her face as she was led over by Bow. A brief pause and she had her hand gently resting on the horse’s velvet nose. He snorted slightly, causing the hair around Adora’s face to flutter and she was in love.

“Best day ever,” she whispered, moving her hand tentatively but with increasing confidence over his muzzle. Catra watched on with fond amusement, happy with the distance between her and the horse (she wasn’t scared, ok?) and Glimmer and Bow overlooked from the benches. 

Eventually, it would be time to leave Thaymor and continue on to Brightmoon, but they would let the two girls enjoy their first party for now.

\--

Gazing into her liquid mirror, Shadow Weaver contemplated what to do. Two of her cadets, Catra and her failed project Adora, had disappeared, last seen at dinner time by their squad. It was now well passed lights out and they still weren’t in bed. Catra, she expected this from, although she had seen an improvement in her behaviour since she’d taken on responsibility for Adora, but Adora had always been a stickler for the rules. She’d been grown on those rules, after all and her imperfection didn’t stop her from remembering them. 

She would have to report this to Hordak at some point but there was another matter that was concerning her. Earlier, she’d felt a profound amount of magical energy from somewhere across Etheria, far exceeding anything she’d felt in recent years and it made her crave.

She’d experienced angry princesses, distraught sorcerers and battle with Brightmoon and she’d never sensed anything of this magnitude before. This could hold the key to her getting all-embracing power and control over Etheria.

But she didn’t know where it had come from. 

It didn’t feel like any of the princesses she’d encountered before, a new sensation that was painfully seductive and overwhelmingly desirable. She’d tried to use her scrying mirror to find the source but she kept getting blocked by the inherent magic of the Whispering Woods. Slashing her hand through the mirror’s surface in frustration, she paced back to the Black Garnet. 

After the accident all those years ago, she’d attempted to harness its power to restore Adora’s hearing but it was in vain; nothing she did worked and she had no use for a useless project. She’d wasted years on Adora, moulding her into the perfect soldier to help her ascend to her rightful power with time and it was all lost with a moment of rage. 

Because of that damned mongrel! It was Catra’s fault that Adora was damaged. It was her fault that she was scrying for mystical energies to help her overthrow Hordak instead of using Adora as her intended purpose: as a sword and shield. 

She could feel the rage rising in her, furiously scarlet and hot and she unleashed a lash of electricity towards the wall in response. Her black hair was whipping behind her, emulating her mood perfectly as she unveiled her anger on her surroundings. 

She could feel her scars pulling as her face morphed into a snarl of rage behind her mask and that fuelled her anger further, leading her to greater destruction until she stood, surrounded by smoke and sparks, still angry.

Taking a deep breath, she composed herself and left to update Hordak.

She would find this mystical energy, take it for her own and destroy him soon. And her first order of business when she was in her rightful place would be to punish the mongrel that caused her unbearable delay to her plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, we're starting to see a little canon divergence now.
> 
> The next chapter may be a little later as my rota has me on call until Monday.
> 
> Let me know what you think  
> BYB x


	3. Razz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If others supported Adora, where did that leave her? If others supported her, what would she do? What place was there for Catra in a world full of Glimmers and Bows?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your very kind comments and kudos!

Adora had experienced a few pivotal moments in her life, as short as it was. 

The first was when she was presented with a cardboard box and the largest, cutest blue and hazel eyes stared back at her from inside it, a fanged mouth gnawing on the edges as a tail danced lazily in the opposite corner. Shadow Weaver had hovered in the background, palpably frowning through her mask as Adora stared, enchanted, at her new friend. This would be the starting moment of something beautiful but at the time, all she could think was “kitty!” she had tried to scoop her new friend into her arms (she’d never had a friend before!) and was met by a hiss and a furious slash across her chin. Her eyes had welled with tears and she fell backwards, Shadow Weaver looming threateningly behind her. She saw heterochromic eyes widen in fear and ears flatten to her skull and she spread her arms wide as she turned back to the sorceress. She and Catra had been inseparable since then.

The second was waking up after being thrown by Shadow Weaver. She was on a hard bunk in the infirmary, the acidic smell of bleach penetrating her brain as she rose from unconsciousness. She had opened her bleary eyes to see Catra’s unruly mane and drooping ears curled over her hand. She could feel vibrations running up her arm from Catra’s purring but she couldn’t hear it. It registered, in a distant, detached way, that she couldn’t hear it but the implications didn’t hit her until later. All that mattered was that Catra was with her and she was ok. Everything else could wait until she could keep her eyes open for longer. 

Thirdly was when her and Catra became more than friends. That evening curled up in the dark on her bunk would forever be one of her fondest memories. She relived it when she was sad and it defined her when she was content. It was one of the pieces she used to build herself together after she shattered, to reconstruct herself anew when she couldn’t fulfill her purpose anymore.

Adora’s fourth pivotal moment was finding the sword. She’d long come to terms with her deafness, acknowledging regaining sound as a fantastic pipedream: something unachievable but she wanted it all the same. Even temporarily getting her hearing back was more than she could ask for and she was grateful. Even if it hurt, and it hurt so much, to have it taken away again, she had gotten to have a breathless few minutes of hearing again. 

Catra would see it as cruel; she would be distraught on Adora’s behalf as she had the chance snatched away from her again but all Adora could feel was gratitude. She’d gotten the chance to hear Catra again after years and she was unbearably thankful. Yes, she wanted more; she would give her arm to hear it again, but once was enough.

(She had to tell herself this. Constantly. It had to be enough. The alternative was too painful. If she let herself think otherwise even in the darkest recesses of her mind; if she let herself consider the alternatives, she would crumble into a thousand pieces and even Catra wouldn’t be able to put her back together again.)

So, to Adora, finding the sword and going to Thaymor was the best day in a long time. 

They were travelling to Brightmoon after leaving the festival at Thaymor that morning. The villagers had insisted they stay over, when they were curled up together, watching the bonfire’s embers burn low, satiated and content. Bow and Glimmer had curled up together on a bench, a borrowed blanket thrown over their shoulders as Glimmer blinked sleep from her eyes. Catra and Adora were sitting on the grass, Adora’s head in Catra’s lap and dozing whilst Catra ran soothing fingers through her hair. Her claws instinctively avoided her scar, knowing that the touch would be too much for Adora after today and it was this consideration that made Adora love her even more.

When the sun began to rise, they left the hut where they had camped out and headed back to Brightmoon. The villagers had waved them along with flowers and food and smiles. After learning that Glimmer was the princess of Brightmoon, the villagers had given them the horse Adora was admiring yesterday, to help them on their journey home. Glimmer and Bow had been grateful, Adora elated. 

Catra, less so. 

“I don’t have to ride it, do I?” she groaned, mentally comparing her size to the animal’s. There seemed to be an inherent understanding between her and the horse: they would not come in contact with each other. Catra was sure the horse would trample her at the first sign of weakness, but then again, with how much it was tossing its head last night and flaunting, it probably wouldn’t want her insides to mar its coat.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Bow had said, clapping a hand reassuringly on her shoulder. Catra glanced back and forth between the contemptuous looking horse and a supportive Bow and decided that no, she wasn’t going to ride the animal.

Adora had decided that she was and was trying to climb up onto it, her hands scrabbling at his neck as she tried to lever her body onto his spine. Catra sighed heavily and started to move closer to the horse and the dumb blonde but was stopped short by Glimmer, who had walked forwards and boosted Adora onto its back.

Seated on the horse’s back, Adora was higher but seemed to sit taller than usual, a pleased smile on her face as her hands twined into the horse’s mane. She looked happy.

Catra really didn’t want to mount the horse but she was prepared to do it, for Adora. The choice was taken from her by Glimmer. After boosting Adora up, she teleported herself onto the horse behind her, hands hugging Adora’s middle comfortingly. Adora jumped at the sudden arms, looking over her shoulder and then to Catra, eyebrows puckered in distressed confusion.

This was a new situation for the Horde pair. They’d never been able to rely on anyone else, Catra supporting Adora wholly and completely without aid from anyone. She’d been happy to do it, it was for Adora and she would do anything for her, but she felt the strain at times, the pull, the exhaustion. She had never resented Adora for gifting her this responsibility, knowing that it was a gift from the blonde, that level of trust and reliance, but sometimes, she needed…

She’d been putting Adora first for so long, something Adora didn’t even do, but she seemed to have lost a little piece of herself along the way. A little piece of her, a little piece of Catra. Adora asked for nothing but Catra had built her life around her for so long that nothing was about what Catra wanted anymore, and she wasn’t resentful, just… mournful at times.

Knowing that she didn’t have to mount the horse, that someone else did and that someone else was helping support Adora was enormous and relieving.

And a little distressing. If others supported Adora, where did that leave her? If others supported her, what would she do? What place was there for Catra in a world full of Glimmers and Bows?

Mulling on these thoughts as they set off to Brightmoon, Catra studied her feet as she and Bow walked over the forest detritus and leafy carpet. She picked her way through the roots, risking her footing to glance at Adora on the horse occasionally. She found that, although she had started with a large smile, she had lost it at some point during the trek, her mouth downturned at the edges. 

Placing a hand on the blonde’s knee as she walked beside them, she got fingers entwined with hers immediately and a warm smile in response that stayed. 

Perhaps her place was besides Adora, holding her hand. As it always had been. 

As it always will be.

\--

They trekked for hours through the Whispering Woods, aiming towards Brightmoon but they didn’t seem to be getting any closer. Every time they looked up, or glance at Bow’s tracker pad, they were in the same general spot, in the depths of the woods with Brightmoon a tantalising spot in the upper corner of the screen. 

“Ugh,” Glimmer groaned, flopping her head forwards onto Adora’s back. Adora glanced behind her briefly, seeing purple hair collapsed against her spine and smiling gently. “We’ve been walking for hours!”

“Correction, Sparkles,” Catra said, her hand still held by Adora but glancing wickedly at the princess on the horse, “Bow and I have been walking for hours. You’ve been sat resting.” Glimmer frowned at Catra, sticking her tongue out at her. Catra retaliated sharply, but her banter with Glimmer held a small undercurrent teasing compared to when they’d first met. Glimmer’s lavender eyes were glittering with humour as she and Catra threw verbal barbs at each other. 

Glimmer was annoying, Catra thought, and stubborn and wanted what was best for her people; she and Catra were very similar in that regard. Glimmer’s people were those in the Rebellion and Brightmoon. Catra’s was Adora. 

“I could teleport us to Brightmoon,” Glimmer offered, looking towards Bow, only to receive a frown in response. 

“You know you can’t teleport this many people at once,” he said.

“Pretty limited powers there, Sparkles,” Catra smirked, mentally cataloguing the information for later use. 

“Be quiet, Horde scum!” Glimmer bit back, smiling slightly and seeming unconcerned that a potential weakness had just been revealed to a technical, enemy. 

They had stopped in a small clearing, Glimmer sliding from the horse to stand face-to-face with Catra, taunting one another. Catra personally thought she should have stayed on the horse; at least then she had height advantage. Bow was circling the edge of the trees, his eyes fixed on his pad with occasional glances back to the girls. Adora stayed sitting on the horse’s back, her hands patting his neck as she watched the others, eyes darting back and forth between them, trying to catch snippets of their conversation. The horse, for his part, bent his head down and began to graze on the verdant forest floor; prancing with butterflies intermittently and taking Adora by surprise when he did. She let out delighted giggles when it happened, not anticipating the little jumps but loving them all the same.

Bow watched the two girls verbally spar with a fond smile on his face. Bow was a provider as well and Catra had recognized this almost immediately. Back when he was curling around Glimmer in the spider fight, Catra had seen herself and Adora in almost that exact pose before. Sure, he was more open about his caring than she was, but they fundamentally understood one another. They were protectors of their loved ones. He batted his tracker pad a few times, the signal being blocked by the inherent magic of the woods and stopping him from receiving anything now, and scratched his hair in frustration.

“I don’t understand it,” he moaned, “why aren’t we getting closer to Brightmoon?”

“Because you’re going the wrong way, dearie,” a voice near his waist said and he jumped with fright and let out a small squeal. He recoiled onto one leg, jumping backwards and threw his arms up in a paltry defense. Catra and Glimmer stopped their teasing at the sound, Catra dropping into a ready crouch and Glimmer’s hands turning pink with charged sparkles. Adora picked up on the change in their demeanour and slipped from the back of the horse, stance loose. 

But what they were all faced with when they converged on the new voice in their midst was a tiny old woman, face and hands gnarled with age and hair in a wild bush that Catra was a little jealous of. She had thick eyeglasses on, magnifying her eyes to a painful degree and was sweeping the grass near Bow’s feet with a broom.

“Don’t be all surprised,” she chided gently, patting a wizened hand on Bow’s leg. “You’re just a little turned around. Old Razz will get you home.” She looked around the others in the clearing, who had gathered closer to Bow and the strange old woman, her sharp insect eyes staring at each one in turn. When her eyes landed on Adora, her face lit up. 

“Mara, dearie! Is it time to go berry picking already?” she crowed, voice delighted and wrinkled lips spreading in a smile. Adora looked on, confused but the old woman had already set off, covering the ground at an alarmingly fast pace. 

“Who’s Mara?” she asked, glancing to Catra for confirmation that she hadn’t read wrong. Catra shook her head helplessly, also lost. The four teens followed behind her, scrabbling to keep up the with the old woman as she led them through the trees. 

“Why, Mara is you! Have you forgotten already?” Razz crowed happily, waving her bangled arms in the air, her broom almost hitting Bow in the face. Adora frowned and Catra nodded at her.

“She’s not Mara, she’s Adora,” the feline said, a clawed hand resting on Adora’s shoulder in support. Razz shook her head, tutting.

“No, no, no. It’s not time for Adora yet,” she muttered. “Not time for her, time for Mara and berries. Has anyone seen Broom?”

The four teens looked to one another, eyes wide in disbelief and skepticism. Was this woman really going to get them to Brightmoon? They chased her over roots and ground, footsteps loud and echoing in the trees. Even the horse was following them, his hooves picking through the leaves easily and head bowing under low lying branches. 

“Not time for Adora yet,” Razz continued to mutter, “Mara still has the sword.”

Bow ran ahead, running into Razz’s path and stopping in front of her, arms outstretched. “Wait, wait! You know about the sword?” he said, eyes alight with promised knowledge. 

“Yes, yes. Mara’s sword. She-ra’s sword. The Sword of Protection.”

The name seemed to echo around them, causing the trees to buzz and the leaves to whisper with a mystical charge. The hairs on the back of the teens’ necks stood on end as the air got palpable with something. 

“She-ra,” Catra said, ensuring that Adora was looking at her and enunciating clearly. “The sword lady is called She-ra.” Adora’s mouth dropped open.

“Wait, she had a name?” Adora questioned, head cocked to the side. “That means the transformation has happened before.” Following her line of thought, Catra picked up on it, an answering smile on her face, mirroring Adora’s.

“That means it could happen again.”

Unsaid between them, but in the thoughts of them all was that, possibly, Adora could hear again.

“Yes, Mara, you know this,” Razz continued, using her broom to hurry Bow out of the way and to continue the journey onwards. “We’ve talked about this before.”

“But we don’t know it,” Bow said and Glimmer nodded vigorously as well, both of them moving to intercept the old woman again. Both their eyes shined and sparkled innocently as Catra remained behind them, pulling a disbelieving look over Razz’s shoulder. The old woman’s magnified gaze heavily assessed the two Rebellion members, and she turned to her broom to seemingly have a silent conversation.

Oh, ok dearies,” she said, “let’s go to Razz’s house and have some pie.”

\--

It seemed like forever but they made their way to Razz’s hut, its walls nestled between the roots of an overly large tree, seemingly conforming to the shapes of the tree. Smoke was merrily piping out of the chimney and there seemed to be a collection of butterflies around the entrance. The horse seemed to love this, frolicking with them and giving off a cheerful whinny.

“Ah, have fun Swiftwind!” Razz said, waving at the horse. At the questioning looks from the others, she explained, “his name is Swiftwind. Come on, dearies.” 

Passing through the cloth at the door and sitting at a weathered table, the teens were all presented with a slice of berry pie. Adora and Catra attacked theirs with relish as Glimmer and Bow ate theirs with more restraint. Heaving a heavy sight, Razz began to tell the story of She-ra.

It turned out that She-ra was a product of magic and ancient technology, designed to be the peak of potential physical and mystical abilities and she was destined to balance the planet. She used the sword to transform and something had happened, long ago, and she was lost to time.

“But when Adora comes, it’ll be time for her to come back,” Razz said, busying herself with a kettle. “But not yet. It’s still Mara’s time now.”

During the tale, all the pie had been eaten and Catra was translating for Adora, who was watching with a dumbfounded look on her face.

“Wait-“ Glimmer said, her hand held up. “Peak physical and mystical abilities? Is that why Adora could hear when she was She-ra?”

Adora, who was looking at her, switched her gaze to Razz with a sudden, hopeful stare and Razz sighed.

“Yes, Adora needs help with hearing. She can’t be She-ra forever but Adora is enough. She will have to learn to hear without She-ra someday,” Razz said cryptically and Adora’s eyes dropped to the wooden table. Learn to hear without She-ra, what did that mean? How could she hear without transforming? She didn’t even know how to hear with She-ra yet, as she hadn’t intentionally transformed, let alone without her.

But Catra, always more practical and eminently strategic, was already moving on. “So, how does the sword transform someone?” Razz sparkled at the question, he wizened hand extending towards Adora.

“Mara knows that already! Tell them what you told me?” Adora looked on quizzically and Razz cajoled her a little more. “Remember when you told me the transformation was linked to your desire to protect? And you had to say something as well…” 

That made sense to Adora. When she’d first transformed into the tall warrior, she’d been wanting to protect Catra and stop any harm from coming to her. She could feel that burning sensation in her chest again and focused on that desire. Now that she knew what she was looking for, the small sapling of magic was easy to find. 

“But what words?” Bow muttered, hand on his chin.

“I think Adora already knows them,” Glimmer said, a knowing twinkle in her eyes. Looking across the table, Adora saw that everyone was looking at her and she flushed bright red. 

“For the Honour of Grayskull,” she whispered, feeling a small tingle accompany the words despite the lack of intent behind them. It became a little poignant around the table as the teens processed the information that Razz had given them. Although seemingly out of touch with the world, and almost certainly out of touch with the timeline, what she said made sense.

Well, some of it. 

After finishing off Razz’s pie and resting for a while, the foursome were ready to continue on to Brightmoon. They hadn’t set off for answers in the depths of the forest when they left Thaymor but they had received some all the same. With Razz merrily sweeping her porch, butterflies swarming around her head and a crooked finger pointing in their direction of travel, they departed to try and reach Brightmoon. It was approaching early afternoon at this point and they had set off from Thaymor that morning, so they were beginning to get tired from the journey.

Fortunately, Glimmer started to recognise some of the tree arrangements and gave a small cheer, leaping from the back of Swiftwind to skip through the trees. Adora, left on the horse, tangled her fingers in his hair to settle him after the surprise loss of one of his riders, and Catra looked on with feigned indifference.  
Bow whooped behind Glimmer, following her path, arms raised in the air with cheer. Adora and Catra exchanged a look of bemusement and continued behind them, their hands still entwined as they had been for the journey. 

If they followed them, they would be officially deserting. Although they had initially got the security of being “prisoners”, they knew that they were voluntarily walking towards their death sentences if they entered Brightmoon now. They could have easily left any number of times and ways before now and the cover of prisoners was tenuous at best, even when bound, so walking into rebel territory was tantamount to treason towards the Horde. 

Should they risk it? If they returned now, they would get demerits and a punishment but it wouldn’t be anything they hadn’t had before. If they continued, they would face the punishment for all deserters: death. Nothing would save them and, with Adora out of favour with Shadow Weaver, the sorceress wouldn’t attempt to step in.  
Were they brave enough to completely abandon everything they had ever known?

“Come on guys!” Bow called from ahead, his eyes shining as he turned back to them. In the distance they could see the purple spot that was Glimmer, leagues ahead of them.

Glancing at one another, Catra and Adora took their metaphorical steps towards freedom. 

When they broached the tree line to see Brightmoon for the first time, the Horde cadets were struck breathless. The castle was behind a high wall and a lake with fast flowing water separated it from the protective woods. The walls themselves were pale orange in colour and in the centre of the courtyard, clearly visible above them, was the focal point: The Moonstone. Iridescent in colour, oval in shape and polished finely on its support stand, it radiated with a warm light, encompassing the kingdom in a luminescent glow. The largest building in the kingdom was the castle, with towering spires and sloping roofs and intermittently, they could see finely dressed soldiers at guard posts. 

And in front of them, standing at the descended gate was an angelic figure with a furious scowl on her face. Her auburn hair was loose in waves, tangling with her large white wings, her crown doing little to mask the deep furrow in her brow. Her flinty eyes narrowed and her arms crossed in front of her. She seemed to be staring down at them but, on closer inspection, she was glaring at Glimmer.

Who was wilting in front of them. Glimmer, the indominable wall of stubborn who had glared down Catra and Adora when they were Horde members was almost quaking in her sparkly boots. 

“I knew she was going to kill you,” Bow whispered in her ear, leaning over slightly but not taking his eyes off the angry queen in front of them. 

“She’s not going to kill me, Bow,” Glimmer confidently responded, but looked a little uncertain herself despite her words. Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, she twinkled out of existence and reappeared next to her mother. 

Although they were on the other side of the lake and had the gate between them, the three teens could hear the conversation between mother and daughter.

“Sneaking out after I grounded you! Honestly Glimmer,” the queen exclaimed, her arms thrown up in frustration and looking less regal and more maternal than before. 

“Ugh, mum! Bow and I went out to look for a First One’s relic and we found it. But you wouldn’t know that, would you mum! Because you never listen to me!” 

“It’s hard to listen to you if you’re not here!” 

“Maybe I’d be here more if you didn’t ground me!”

“Maybe I wouldn’t ground you if you didn’t disobey me!”

“Ugh! You’re impossible!” they both screamed at each other, red in the face and leaning forwards. The guards looked on, smiles seen on their faces that were not covered by their helmets and appearing fondly used to the antics of the queen and princess. Having no frame of reference from queens or mothers, Catra and Adora weren’t sure how to respond to this, sharing a brief glance, but Bow appeared entirely unperturbed by the scene before him and turned to his new friends, with Glimmer and her mother screaming in the background. 

“Come on! I’ll show you around!” he smiled to them, “but I have to introduce you to Angella first.” Sparing a quick glance to the angelic demon, he muttered “maybe later”.

As they approached the gated entrance to the castle, Angella seemed to notice the unfamiliar girls with Bow and visibly paused before regaining her regal demeanour. Composing herself, much like her daughter does, she laced her fingers together in front of her and smiled beautifully at them.

“Welcome to Brightmoon,” she said, a small masked smile on her lips. “I’m Queen Angella.” She spoke clearly and with a slight accent but Adora could still read her lips easily.

“Hello,” they chorused together, unused to having a smiling adult looking at them. What did they do in this situation? In the end, Catra gave a wiggle of her fingers whilst Adora executed a perfect salute. 

Angella looked on, a little confused and spared a quick look at her daughter in question. Glimmer looked a little smug at the chance to show off to her mother.

“Mum, this is Catra and Adora,” she said, pointing to each of them in turn. “They were with us when we found the relic.”

“What relic?” 

Reaching behind her, Glimmer pulled the sword from where it was strapped to her back. Upon seeing the translucent sword, its golden winged hilt and pale blue stone, Angella’s face went pale and she gasped in shock.

“The Sword of Protection!” Bow and Glimmer let out smug smiles in accomplishment with Bow leaning over to Glimmer and whispering “I told you,” in her ear.

“I told you I snuck out for a good reason, mum,” Glimmer said. “And, Adora can use the sword.”

Angella frowned. “That’s impossible, Glimmer. Only She-ra can use the sword.”

And Glimmer smiled at her mother, taking the sword and passing it to Adora. Adora looked questioningly at Glimmer, who made a “go on” motion. Taking a deep breath, finding that feeling from earlier in Razz’s hut, she called aloud.

“For the Honour of Grayskull.”

With a swirl of bright light, those surrounding them were temporarily blinded and when they regained their sight, there was a tall warrior princess in front of them, clad in white and gold with a tiara, boots and a red cape. Although they had seen the sight yesterday, the appearance of She-ra still surprised the teens and amazed the adults present. Catra couldn’t keep her eyes off Adora, admiring her physique and her happy smile. After Razz explained that She-ra was Adora’s physical potential, Catra was not gentle with her gaze. She wanted.

“Um, hi Your Majesty,” Adora said, still smiling widely at the sound of her own voice. She glanced briefly to Catra in the corner of her eye and saw her smiling back.

“But, how?” Angella whispered, uncertain and tentative. And desperately hopeful. “You’re really her?”

“Yep, she’s the real deal,” Catra smirked, and Bow and Glimmer smiled encouragingly behind them. Adora could feel her strength draining quickly and knew she couldn’t keep up the transformation for long. Clearly, like all of her physical abilities, She-ra had to be trained and strengthened and that would come with time. For now, she had to let her go and rest.

She relaxed her transformation and changed back into her normal (agonisingly) deaf self, but happy in the knowledge that she would transform again. Angella remained looking nonplussed at the gathered teens, stupefied by the recent developments. It was at that time that she seemed to notice the Horde insignia on the clothes of Catra and Adora, wincing backwards at the sight.

“It seems fortunate that She-ra would reappear now, just as the Rebellion needs her support more than ever, but for her to appear in a Horde soldier...” she trailed off, shaking her head in dismay. Adora was similarly disheartened: what if the queen took the sword and she wasn’t allowed or able to transform again? What if she turned them away? Did they sacrifice their home in the Horde for nothing?

With her nasal bridge pinched between her fingers, Angella sighed deeply. She seemed to be making a challenging decision and glanced to and fro upon her guards and daughter to help her decide. Glimmer seemed to be fighting got the Horde cadets, shouting at her mother and gesturing to her ears (she must have told the queen that Adora was deaf) but Catra had eyes for Adora only. She seemed to have collapsed into herself, fearful and small. For her part, Catra was embracing her from the side, her arms stretched around the blonde in comfort and was glaring venomously at the Brightmoon queen.

The queen approached Adora, who had backed into Catra and crouched down to look the blonde in the eyes. 

“Do you and Catra wish to join the Rebellion and fight the Horde?” she asked gently, voice soft despite Adora’s inability to hear it. Catra was beside her, as always and, without having to look at each other, they knew their answer.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” 

Angella smiled sadly, simultaneously glad to have the warrior princess’ support and sad to have to enlist the support of the young girls in their fight. 

“Ok,” she said, straightening and continuing to smile at them. 

“Welcome to the Rebellion.”

Glimmer and Bow cheered loudly, literally jumping in excitement and they crushed the two girls in a hug. Their laughs and cheers echoed from the gate and into the bright corridors of the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a bit of time and wanted to get this out before the bunny lost interest


	4. Flowers for She-ra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Adora was enough, what need was there for She-ra? Clearly, there was a need for the warrior princess so, clearly, Adora wasn’t enough.

Twilight fell on Brightmoon painting the kingdom awash with pale blues and purples. Dark shadows lined the corridors, stretching towards the ceiling with a gentle reach. Adora had originally been given her own room, the high ceilings and emptiness more oppressive than her crowded barracks. The fact that she was alone seemed to amplify her deafness, emphasising the silence that yawned before her and put her on edge too much to sleep. She had taken a seat on the edge of the bed and almost drowned, the padding overwhelmingly soft and moulding to her body. Leaping up, she scrabbled away from the bed and ran to the door.   
She couldn’t stay in that room.

Breaching the door, she crept out, reflecting her internal silence on inaudible feet as she tried to find Catra’s room. Unfortunately, Adora had been led to her room first and didn’t know where Catra had been placed, so she was left wandering the corridors in an ineffective manner. She could call out, potentially waking everyone up, or she could return to her room in defeat. Looking left and right, at the seemingly endless identical corridors and crossroads that disoriented her, she began to despair. 

Now, she couldn’t even find her original room anymore. 

Lost in the maze of Brightmoon’s castle, Adora was beginning to panic. She really was useless at everything; she couldn’t even find a room correctly. She didn’t want to rely on Catra for everything in life, but why did everything have to be so hard? She wanted some independence from Catra, it wasn’t fair on her to keep using her as Adora’s crutch, but how could she branch out if she couldn’t even navigate a castle.

Back in the Horde, she knew every corridor and room, she knew the ventilation shafts and she could find her way blindfolded as well as deaf, but here, she was completely lost. She found it slightly ridiculous that she could plan a battle insurgence but she couldn’t find her bedroom. 

She felt a small tap on her shoulder and jumped. Whirling around, she saw Angella, regally poised behind her, eyebrows hunched in concern. 

“Are you alright?” she saw Angella’s lips say and her own trembled in response. She had a tendency to get wobbly when she was emotional and that, combined with not being able to hear her own voice, meant that she was reluctant to talk when she was upset. Her eyes filled with frustrated tears and her hands balled at her sides. The upheaval of the past two days had hit Adora hard, impacting her limited independence and heightening her anxiety to astronomical levels and she spiralled into furious weeping.

Angella, well versed in the management of emotional girls thanks to Glimmer, led a sobbing Adora to a bench that was lining the side of the corridor, beneath a huge mural of a sorcerer. Angella let Adora cry out her feelings for a while, sitting patiently with her until she could find her words again and looking to the world like she wasn’t sat next to a distraught girl. She made no move to touch her, perhaps remembering Adora’s reaction to her unexpected touch earlier, but sat close enough for Adora to feel her body heat. 

When Adora had gotten her emotions under control and looked up, puffy blue eyes caught the patient ones of Angella.

“Sorry,” she said. Angella was clear when she reassured Adora that all was well.

“What seems to be the problem, Adora?” the queen asked.

“I couldn’t sleep and went to find Catra, but I got lost,” the blonde moaned in frustration. And like that, a flood was opened and Adora was telling Angella how useless, how worthless she felt and how much she relied on Catra for everything. She wasn’t sure why she was so open with the queen but there was something inherently reassuring about her. She’d never had an older, female presence in her life that she could talk to like this before and the whole experience was terrifying.  
For her part, Angella listened with patience, no judgement passing through her expression and sitting with her wings partially unfurled. Glimmer usually directed her feelings outwards, raging at the world but Adora seemed to direct all hers inward, raging internally until she exploded. As such, Angella felt a little out of her depth dealing with this; she had only just met Adora as well. 

It was in moments like this that she ached for Micah; he always knew what to say and how to approach people. She knew that he would be exceptional here but that wasn’t an option. Glancing up at his portrait, she mentally asked him for his advice. She knew very little of Adora, the only advantage being that Angella knew of Adora’s sensory impairment and, perhaps, that was where they needed to start. 

Once Adora’s self-loathing vitriol had dried, she made sure she was looking at her when she spoke.

“We’re sitting under the mural of my husband, Micah,” Angella said, apropos to nothing. Adora glanced at the painting in confusion and back to the queen. “He was a good king, but he was a better father and always knew what to say to people. I could never figure out how to say things the way he did. But I’ll give it an attempt.”

The queen’s gaze grew distant and wistful, thinking of her deceased husband, but snapped back to Adora with laser intensity. 

“Adora, you are not worthless. I can see you are an extraordinarily gifted woman with many talents, and that is without considering She-ra. And I can see that Catra cares for you deeply and you, her.

“You’re not a burden to her and certainly not to me. I would be glad to have you on my side in any battle, completely as you are. True, there are things that pose a slight challenge for you compared to others, but these are challenges, not barriers.”

Having spent her whole life being told she wasn’t enough by Shadow Weaver, by the Horde, to be reassured that she was enough was mind blowing. She wished she could believe what the queen said but she still had lingering doubts; if Adora was enough, what need was there for She-ra? Clearly, there was a need for the warrior princess so, clearly, Adora wasn’t enough.

Almost as though reading the thoughts on her face, Angella addressed her further. “It’s understandable that you might feel overwhelmed and out of control; so much has happened in the last few days for you but, sometimes we need to embrace this. These feelings will pass as a storm does and the sun will shine all the brighter for it. Your family will support you through it and Catra is your family. I hope you’ll let me support you as well, if you would like me to.”

Adora had never known a mother before; the closest she had ever had was Shadow Weaver and she was more commanding than maternal in nature, but this was how she imagined one to be: supportive, kind and gentle. She could happily sit next to the older woman for hours.

But, at that moment, Catra rounded the corner and her eyes lighted on Adora on the bench. 

“Adora,” she called, and attached herself to Adora’s arm, uncaring (or perhaps not noticing) Adora’s companion. Angella stayed silent and drifted into the background, standing from the bench to stare more closely at Micah’s portrait. “The bed tried to eat me! So, we are sharing a bed because it can’t eat us both!”   
Adora smiled indulgently and agreed, standing and starting to leave with Catra to her room. She glanced back over her shoulder as she left to see Angella looking back at her, a reassuring smile on her face. 

‘Thank you,’ Adora mouthed to her, receiving a wider smile and a nod in return.

‘Remember what I said,’ was the answering words her mouth made.

Adora didn’t quite believe her, just yet, but maybe it was a start. 

\--

“Glitter, I don’t want to alarm you, but I think your mum is trying to kill us.”

Glimmer rose in the early morning light, hair sleep mussed and eyes bleary, to the sight of Catra and Adora perched on the end of her bed. How they had gotten there, she didn’t know as her bed was several feet off the ground and floating. The sight of the two girls made her jump backwards, precariously close to the edge of the bed and she would have fallen if not for a clawed hand wrapping around her wrist. 

She had to withstand Catra’s smug look as a result though, so she teleported them both to the ground in a fit of pique. She smiled broadly at the retching noises Catra made, clearly not used to teleportation as a mode of travel and her eyes drifted back up to her bed, where a silent Adora was peeking over the side at them, blue eyes wide and twinkling with mischief. 

She raised her hand, offering to get her down, but Adora shook her head in response and leapt over the side, landing heavily on the ground with a thump.  
Horde cadets were mad.

“So why is my mum trying to kill you? She usually has people for that,” Glimmer joked, smiling at the pair. After they’d arrived yesterday, they had taken Adora and Catra to guest rooms to sleep in, wanting to sleep the whole night considering how tired they all were. They were standard guest rooms: bed, shower, waterfall, crystals and they looked fine to Glimmer.

“The bed tried to eat us!” Catra yowled and Adora nodded in the background. Despite being led to separate rooms to sleep, Glimmer wasn’t at all surprised that they had ended up in one room, sharing a bed. They were co-dependent to a scary degree but she rationalised that, with Adora’s hearing impairment, it was easier to share. She currently had a bet going with Bow as to whether they were something more. Bow insisted that they were just good friends supporting each other. Glimmer thought otherwise: the way they held each other and looked at each other was not friendship.

Mind you, that was probably why Bow wasn’t getting any of her signals if he thought those two were just friends. 

Glimmer, personally, thought that the bed was perfectly normal but she thought about it from another perspective, a Horde perspective. She thought back to Thaymor, her and Bow sitting on the benches watching the Horde pair dancing without care. She’d agreed to give them a chance, trying to be accommodating towards them. She’d thought Horde soldiers heartless and emotionless in the past but seeing Adora and Catra together, she’d realised they were people too. Adora was sweet and kind, Catra was snarky and protective and she could see herself becoming friends with both of them. 

But those shining rays of personality were sometimes lost behind the clouds of Horde training. She could see it in Adora’s posture, in Catra’s distrust. She could see it in the way they didn’t know what a horse was. What else didn’t they know?

What else didn’t they have?

Did they have beds, she wondered and then felt an overwhelming sadness at that thought. 

“Ok, we’ll get you a new bed,” she said. “Would you like a firmer one?” She saw the dazzle of surprise on their faces at her acquiescence and felt a pang of hatred for the Horde, almost as sharp as the hatred caused by the loss of her father. How could they treat people like this?

Adora’s mouth had dropped open and Catra was smirking with a small glimmer of surprise in her eyes. 

Well, if the Horde wouldn’t appreciate these girls, she would make sure that Brightmoon and the Rebellion did. 

\--

The War Room was a tall, imposing room with a large, circular table in the centre. Murals danced on the walls, depicting the first Princess Alliance and the joining of Etherian nations. Different nation’s princesses were shown with their runestones sparkling in the early Brightmoon sun. 

The table was surrounded by chairs, many of them empty reflective of the fall of the first Alliance. Seated were Netossa and Spinnerella, two princesses who lived in Brightmoon and didn’t have their own nation states. They had the gift of magic without a connection to a runestone, their small nations having been conquered by the Horde already and their people displaced to Brightmoon. 

What caught the attention of Catra and Adora wasn’t Netossa’s dark skin and pale cloud of hair that belied her gentleness, or Spinnerella’s peaceful wave of purple hair and pink skin that belied her strength, it was that both women were clearly wrapped up in each other. They were seated next to each other in separate chairs but were curled together, symbiotic in their existence.

Catra and Adora knew they were each other’s world but they had never seen anyone else display that; they’d never seen it from the outside before. Growing up in the Fright Zone, there was never a chance to see other people’s love and no one to learn from. There were no labels but equally, no acknowledgement of who they were to one another. 

Without thinking, Catra reached for Adora’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was a relief to know that they didn’t have to hide anything, didn’t have to pretend. They had never known if their love was normal, if their love was natural and to see another pair of women displaying that so openly left them with hope for their life in the Rebellion. 

Adora caught Catra’s eyes with a grin, thinking the same and they took their seats with Glimmer and Bow. Angella was seated at the head of the table, a conspicuously empty chair besides her that the attendees seemed to avoid looking at. Catra glanced over to Bow, who was on her left and whispered “whose chair is that?”

“It was King Micah’s, Glimmer’s dad,” he whispered back, eyes heavy with sadness and sympathy. “He died in the last battle with the Horde,” he said, explaining the grave undertone that was in the room. There was a brief pause, weighted and jarring as everyone seemed to hesitate at the explanation. 

Angella cleared her throat and began the meeting, detailing the Horde’s latest attack on Plumeria, a pacifist state that was ruled by Princess Perfuma. According to the reports received, their supply lines had been interrupted and they were struggling for food and medicines. Angella was sure to keep her hands down from her face, ensuring her mouth was always visible at the table to enable Adora to lip read in a show of consideration. In the centre of the table, a topographical hologram of the area flickered to life and Adora could instantly see why the Horde had chosen the pacifist state of Plumeria.

The forest nation was situated in a valley, nestled between a tall mountain and the thickest part of the Whispering Woods. It served as the gateway between the Horde and the rest of Etheria, should someone wish to avoid the magical, pseudo-sentient trees. If Plumeria fell, it would be possible to choke the supply lines into Brightmoon and beyond, severely limiting the Rebellion. Next to the representation of Plumeria was a Horde symbol, representing a base that had been constructed.

Glancing back to the others, Adora realised that she had missed an exchange as she was examining the map, Glimmer now on her feet with a determined expression; Angella was pinching her nose in exasperation. She looked across to Catra, who mouthed that Glimmer wanted to fight the Horde to reclaim Plumeria’s supply lines and Angella wanted to provide support. Adora nodded in understanding, now following the argument between queen and subject closer, although it seemed more an argument between mother and daughter than commander and soldier. 

She caught Bow looking at her with concern and she raised her eyebrow. He made a “don’t worry about it” expression, but quickly jotted something down on his pad. Had she done something wrong? She hadn’t said anything and made sure to sit quietly, so she didn’t think she’d offended anyone but she couldn’t be sure.   
Sometimes (all the time), she hated being deaf because she missed so much. In the Horde, some of the other cadets had thought she was slow because of it, asking obvious questions and for repetitions constantly. The fact that she scored highly in her classes, taking first place in tactics, went unnoticed in the wake. She was always left with the sensation that she was missing something, something important. This just fed into her inherent anxiety and made her spiral all the more. 

Taking a steadying breath, she vowed to ask Bow later what the issue was but tried to get herself to focus on the meeting again. In that time, Glimmer had taken a seat, a satisfied smile on her face and Angella had let herself smile slightly. Their disagreement must have been settled and both parties were satisfied with the outcome.

If only they were on the same page as to what that outcome was. 

\--

“So, we’ll go to Plumeria, rout out the Horde and Princess Perfuma will join the Princess Alliance and then, my mum will have to let me go on more missions,” Glimmer stated, listing her points on her upraised fingers as she marched into the Whispering Woods. Trailing behind her, at a more sedate rate, were Bow, Adora and Catra. Swiftwind was trailing them, pulling a cart of supplies that was their intended mission from Angella. Adora had wanted to transform into She-ra to carry the cart but she was overruled.

(“You can’t maintain the transformation for long, what if we need her later?”

“Why use the energy?”

“Don’t be absurd, Adora!”)

So, they trekked through the trees towards Plumeria at what seemed to be an agonisingly slow pace. Adora stepped forwards to catch up to Bow, and asked about his expression during the meeting.

“Don’t worry about it. I was thinking about some new tech,” he said offhandedly. Feeling a little put out by the brush off, she fell backwards to walk with Catra, who immediately grasped her hand firmly with a smile.

When they reached Plumeria, they breached the treeline into the main clearing and were greeted, not by citizens in distress but a circle of relaxing people. This was especially concerning given the cloud of dark smoke rising from the Horde camp nearby. Looking at each other in confusion, Glimmer marched forwards towards a flower clad Plumerian. 

“Hello,” she said, “I’m Princess Glimmer of Brightmoon. We bring supplies from Brightmoon. Is Princess Perfuma around?” There was a clamour of noise in one corner and a tanned woman with foamy blonde hair and a pink dress burst out of the tentative crowd. 

“Hello!” she cheered, a tiara of flowers resting on her brow and her dark eyes warm and welcoming. “I’m Princess Perfuma!” She shook all their hands and waved hers, leading to flower garlands magically appearing around their necks. “Welcome for Plumeria!”

After a round of introductions and presentation of the supplies, Perfuma offered for a feast to be prepared. “No, no, no,” she said to a villager, “we need the good kale.” Glimmer frowned in exasperation.

“Listen, is it the right time to be celebrating?” 

“True, things are-” Perfuma paused, trying to find the right word, “-trying right now but the universe will balance itself. We just have to be patient.”

Catra’s eyebrows were so high, they were almost a part of her mane of hair and her cheeks had darkened so much that her freckles were almost indistinguishable. Disbelief coursed through her and she exchanged an unimpressed stare with Glimmer. She hadn’t just heard that, had she?

The sheer lassitude of the Plumerians was shocking; they were just going to sit here whilst the Horde choked their supply lines. Glimmer passionately offered the chance to join the Princess Alliance to Perfuma, whose face fell slightly. 

“I don’t think so. I grow plants, that’s my power,” she said, forlornly making a bloom grow in her hand. The next moment, it crumpled in accelerated decay. There was also something happening to the surrounding nature, the verdant leaves and healthy blossoms withering with illness. When asked what was happening to the plants, Perfuma’s face dropped a little further. She led them to the main corner of the village, a large pink stone embedded in an ancient tree that looked like it was perishing in front of them.

“I don’t know. The Heart Blossom is healthy, its roots are strong but the plants aren’t flourishing. Every time I grow something, it dies quickly.” A forced smile appeared on her face, “but, everything will balance in the end, I’m sure. There are stories of She-ra healing the forest in the past, so if the universe doesn’t balance itself, I’m sure it will send us She-ra to help us.”

“So, let me get this right,” Catra sighed with incredulity, “you’re home is under threat, your plants dying and it all seems to have started when the Horde moved in down the street, but you’re not going to fight and your overarching plan is to wait for a mystical warrior to appear, who hasn’t been seen in over a thousand years?” 

Perfuma looked a little put out when her situation was summed up succinctly by the feline, a brief show of the immense weight she was operating under. As princess, she had a duty to her people, to be strong and show no weakness; to be sure of their actions but she was crumbling under the weight. It was clear she didn’t want to accept what was happening but she had been left little choice. Her options were acceptance or battle and the Plumerians were ill prepared for the latter. 

Upon seeing the Plumerian runestone, Adora felt a small connection to it; it felt sickly and sticky, as though its energy was being tainted by something else. Seeing the insidious veins of black running along the ground, she thought it was though the stone was being invaded by a cancerous malaise. She looked back to the others and saw them say “She-ra” on occasion. Did they want her to fix this? How would she do that? She could barely summon She-ra, let alone control her. Bow and Catra looked at her and smiled in reassurance, Catra immediately turning back to the two princesses to argue for affirmative action against the Horde. Bow approached her and laid a warm hand on her shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out and, if we have to do it without She-ra, we will,” he said, comforting and consoling. Bow was a heartening, supportive person that Adora was quickly, and worryingly, adapting to have in her life. 

The mention of the warrior princess drew the attention of the others and Perfuma’s eyes went wide, looking properly at Adora and her sword for the first time. 

“Wait, are you the She-ra?” she whispered with awe, her white smile broad and hands clasped together in glee. “You can heal us!”

“No!” was the resounding answer from Catra, Bow and Glimmer. 

“It’s not fair to expect her to fix things for you,” Catra growled protectively and Bow nodded vehemently. Glimmer pouted in defence of her friends as well, pulling Adora behind her.

“Look, you won’t join the Alliance, fine,” she said brusquely, “we’ve brought your supplies. We’re going to go and find out what the Horde are doing to Plumeria. You can join us or not, but we’re going to save Etheria.” And with that, Glimmer pulled Adora behind her, Bow and Catra following.

When they reached another clearing, one that Swiftwind had chosen to graze in, Adora transformed into She-ra and they updated her on what had happened. So, She-ra could use her magic for other things than battle, like healing? Adora had no idea how to do that, she could barely control her transformation but she had to try. 

Focusing on her magical energy, she drew onto herself and fired a beam of power from her blade. This ricocheted into Swiftwind with profound power, causing him to rear onto his hind legs and whinny with alarm. The humans in the clearing watched in abject horror as the horse’s coat changed to pure white and her developed a horn and wings. In a flurry of panic, the Pegasus began to canter away, his wings beating wildly as he gained altitude and flew off into the treeline. 

“Well, that could have gone better,” Catra deadpanned and Adora dropped the sword as though she’d been electrocuted.

“I knew I couldn’t do it,” the blonde moaned and Bow patted her shoulder.

“It’s ok, Adora. You’ll learn,” he said.

“Yeah,” Glimmer piped in, “can you imagine how annoying you’d be if you were perfect at it?”

“You’d cause me to go savage,” Catra smirked and Adora pulled her hands from her frustrated tangle in her hair. A watery smile graced her lips and she looked to everyone.

“Thanks guys.” Bow took this to mean that it was time for another hug and pulled everyone into a group embrace firmly. 

A brief moment passed and they separated. 

“So,” Glimmer said, eager to get to business and achieve her goals for the mission, “healing the Heart Blossom with She-ra is out, and that’s ok,” she hastened to add, seeing Adora’s face fall and Catra’s expression thunder. “But I still think we should investigate what the Horde is doing in the nearby camp. Perhaps we can still make them retreat, even without the Plumerian’s support?”

Adora and Catra looked at each other. In terms of battle strategy, it was fairly poor but, given that it would be a reconnaissance mission, there should be fairly low risks involved. 

What could go wrong?

\--

Everything was going wrong. As soon as they’d stepped onto the Horde base, they’d knocked out some cadets and shoved them in a storage closet in their underwear. Using their uniforms as a cover, they’d passed around the forecourt, mentally logging the movement of the troops and the different buildings. Approaching a large building in the centre of the melee, they’d entered to find an unusual machine, pumping livid green liquid into the ground. There were branching wires spreading out and penetrating the earth in different directions, a wave of death seemingly following the pipes. This must be the source of the problems with the Heart Blossom. 

“Hey, who’re you?” a loud voice barked behind them and they all jumped in surprise. An armoured, helmeted person stood in the doorway; their hand poised over the alarm as the Rebels glanced at one another through tinted visors.

Catra scoffed, “We’re your guard relief. Who’re you?” sneering a response. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be the right response as the Horde soldier’s fist slammed into the alarm, releasing a loud, wailing klaxon into the air. Catra leapt forwards, slamming feet first into the soldier and knocking them to the floor with a flurry.   
“Come on!” she yelled, motioning for the door. The other three followed, rushing through the cacophony of activity in the courtyard and dodging blaster fire. They ran behind a set of metal crates, acting as a barrier, and they removed their helmets quickly. Glimmer and Bow appeared winded, red-faced and out of breath, whereas Catra and Adora were fine. 

“What’s the plan?” Catra said aloud, keeping her eyes fixed on the blonde. She could see Adora’s mind working furiously, trying to strategize a way out of what was suppose to be a reconnaissance mission. 

“Bow and I can take them all,” Glimmer panted fervently and Catra’s brows rose in disbelief. 

“Uh-huh,” she intoned. 

All the while, there was continuous blaster fire upon them and the metal crate was shaking dangerously. Above them, a Horde soldier had climbed upon the barrier and jumped down, crashing into Catra was a loud thump and a pained groan from her. 

“Catra!” Adora screamed and any plans she had made went out of the window as she quickly transformed into She-ra. Using her sword, she pushed the soldier away from Catra, gathering her in her arms and Bow and Gimmer shuffled behind her, weapons charged and ready to fire. The initial Horde soldier had fallen back into formation with the others who had arrived, all weapons pointed at them and ready to fire. 

It was at this time that there was a loud, rocketing explosion from the main entrance, making everyone’s heads turn away and look. The Plumerians had been rallied into action by Perfuma and were fighting against the Horde soldiers, who looked so nonplussed by their choice of weapons, they made little attempt to defend themselves. One dazed looking blond man seemed to be fighting using a set of wind chimes and it took everything in Catra’s power not to burst out laughing at the absurdity. 

Using the benefit of the distraction, Adora rushed back into the large room where the device was and used all her strength to thrust her sword through the centre of it. In a furious explosion, the green liquid spewed everywhere but stopped being pumped through the pipes. It seemed that this addressed the problem with the Heart Blossom as Perfuma’s delighted laugh came echoing through the metallic room.

Upon exiting the chamber, she noticed that the Horde were completely overrun with vines and blossoms, sounding their retreat and she mentally rejoiced. She cheerfully listened to Perfuma’s quiet, reassuring voice as she agreed to join the Princess Alliance with Glimmer and she let She-ra’s transformation go with a quiet breath of relief.

She might not be able to heal as She-ra yet, but she could find other ways.

\--

In the dark chamber in the Fright Zone, Shadow Weaver stood gazing at her mirror in contemplation. She had just received the camera footage from the soldiers who were based near Plumeria, using her potion to mine the Plumerian runestone of its power. Within this footage was very little of interest, barring one small development.

Adora had been there, within the Horde base and curled around the mongrel, Catra. Normally, this would be of no consequence as Adora didn’t matter to her plans any more however, something curious had happened. 

She had transformed in a blast of light into a warrior that she had seen in her studies on Mystacor: She-ra. The legendary warrior princess that was rumoured to balance all the magics of Etheria and have access to the ultimate power: The Heart of Etheria. This added a complication to the mix, but not necessarily a bad one. All the years of work she had put into Adora may not have been in vain after all, if she could deliver her the Heart. Perhaps there was to be some rewards for her hard efforts with the blonde and the mongrel.

Later in the footage, she saw She-ra turn and glance over her shoulder to the left of screen. Well, this was interesting. It seemed that She-ra could hear where Adora could not and that, she knew, would be her way to Adora. The way to bring her back to Shadow Weaver. 

It would seem that things were starting to look up for the first time in years.


	5. The Sea Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship wasn’t on the Horde curriculum, it wasn’t like tactics or military strategy, and, for all that the Horde cadets were drilled on teamwork, friendship was another level. There was a difference between tolerating people, and liking them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your response to this fic; I'm truly touched :)

Dark energies coalesced around Shadow Weaver as she drew on the Black Garnet’s power for her latest spell. To be able to use a runestone and not be a Princess was an incredible feat of magic that few people appreciated and was knowledge that even fewer were privy to. She could feel the heady rush as its strength flowed through her, amplifying her innate magic and compounding it to something more formidable.

A shadowed being rose from her own simulacrum, one eyed but all seeing as it dripped with malevolent energy. She didn’t have to turn in her darkened chamber to see it, she knew the moment it formed as what it viewed was projected into her mirror. 

Here was her perfect spy, able to vanish in a moment, enter any room and access any place. She needed it to know where Adora was, if she was to bring the insolent girl home and back to her. With a burst of energy, she directed the shadow towards Brightmoon, the heart of the Rebellion and to Adora’s latest hiding place. 

Just like when the blonde used to hide in the pipes and corridors of the Fright Zone with her little pet, Shadow Weaver would find her. And bring her back where she should be.

Beside her. 

Serving her.

\--

Bow pulled Adora to one side just before their next meeting in the War Room with a mischievous smile on his face. Adora looked towards the door, a little confused but allowed herself to be dragged into an alcove with Bow, face frowning gently in bemusement. Catra and Glimmer had continued onwards without so much as a backwards glance, so there must not have been a pressing issue.

In the alcove, sunlight was streaming through the windows and bathing the corridor in a soft glow. There was a ledge that people could sit on, with a soft cushion resting on the seat and Bow and Adora took a seat on it facing one another. With a gentle motion, Bow pulled a second tracker pad from somewhere and presented it to Adora.

“So, last time we had a meeting, I could see that when different people spoke, it overwhelmed you and that you sometimes had trouble following people’s mouths,” he started, “which is fine and completely normal!” His voice ended on a higher pitch hands out in supplication as Adora’s frown increased at the perceived negative praise. “But I wondered if you wanted a pad to help you in meetings. Glimmer and I want to learn your hand signals, the things you and Catra sometimes do, but in the meantime, hopefully the pad will help. It has a speech-to-text function and translates when people speak.”

He pulled up the program and started talking, and to Adora’s amazement, she could see Bow’s words appearing on the screen.

“If more than one person speaks, it flags up in different colours to help you keep track of group conversations and if you don’t want to talk, you can write your reply on the pad and it’ll speak for you.” Adora stared at the pad in shock, staring with blank eyes and didn’t respond. Her eyes started to fill with water as her vision became blurry. He looked up from the pad, into her eyes and could see that tears were streaming down Adora’s cheeks. Bow seemed to take this as a bad reaction.

“It’s awful, isn’t it? I knew it! I’ve tried my hardest to get it to real time but there is a slight lag and I’m sorry about it. I’ll try to make another one,” he reached his hands out to pull the pad back but Adora had it gripped in a vice. 

No one had ever done anything like this for Adora before. Catra tried her best but was limited by her resources; she could never give this to Adora no matter how much she may have wanted to and so, Adora had tottered onwards, struggling with group conversations and relying on Catra for quick translations on group updates. 

Back in the Horde, the rest of her squad had taken time to learn the hand signals that she and Catra had come up with, allowing them to all talk together. Part of her dreamed that her squad had learned them because they cared for her, but the dark corner of her mind reminded her that they had only done so to improve their teamwork on the field. Here, she and Catra were the only ones that knew them so she was limited to trying to read lips, always tricky in a group situation, and speak aloud, which still filled her with self-doubt. 

This would give her a lease of independence, certainly in group conversations and would make her a little less reliant on Catra, freeing them both of the crutch of her disability. And it had been freely offered without request, making Adora’s heart fill with joy.

She hadn’t realised anyone had noticed her struggle with group conversations, retreating into herself until she could be briefed by Catra or get the gist herself and she certainly had never had anyone before simply offer something to her without request or demand. It wasn’t the way things were done in the Horde, help wasn’t simply offered, it was bartered. 

Bows hadn’t existed in the Horde, helpers for the sake of helping; people who tried to make the world a little brighter just because they could. The Horde was a parasitic relationship, always draining what it could from everyone and everything. How she described her relationship with Catra depended on how bad a day she was having: on a good day, she generously thought of them as symbiotic, each providing the other with a benefit. On a bad day, they were commensal: her receiving all the benefits and Catra simply not coming to harm because of it. 

But Bow was different. He seemed entirely altruistic, providing for others simply because he could and altruism wasn’t something Adora had come to expect or desire. If hers and Catra’s people were each other (and she selfishly dreamed that she was the only person who mattered to Catra because Catra would forever be the only person who mattered to her), and Glimmer’s people were the citizens of Brightmoon and the Rebellion, then Bow’s people were those of Etheria: everyone cared for in equal measure.

She threw her arms around Bow with elation, sobbing into his shoulder and his arms circled her with gentleness and kindness. 

“It’s ok, Adora,” he whispered, knowing that she wouldn’t hear him but he could see his words appearing on the screen of her new pad, reassuringly present for when she looked at it later. “You’re welcome.”

\--

Catra was starting to get a little antsy. When Bow said that he wanted to speak to Adora alone for a minute before the meeting started, she was fine to walk away with Glimmer into the War Room and take her usual seat but then the minutes seemed to stretch on for an age and Adora still didn’t show up and Catra was starting to get worried.

She knew, logically, that Bow was “good people” and she could trust him with Adora, but years of co-dependency didn’t disappear simply because she wanted it to. She’d been looking out for Adora for so long she’d forgotten how not to.

Tail twitching with anxiety, she curled her nails into her leggings to stop herself from using them as leverage to launch herself back across the room to the door. Glimmer, seeing her distress, leaned over and whispered into her ear.

“They’re ok, Catra,” her voice didn’t carry like it normally did, dampened down for only her to hear. “Bow’s just giving her a present.” 

Her heterochromic eyes narrowed at the words and she turned to glare at Glimmer. Present? What present? Why would he be giving Adora a present? The only reason anyone gave away anything was if they wanted something, so what did Bow want from Adora? Her heart paused for a terrifyingly long second as she wondered: did Bow want Adora?

She’d never given anything to Adora before because she’d never had anything physical to give her. Adora had never had anything to give her either; they were content without exchanging anything but words and feelings. Did Adora want physical things? 

Would Adora want Bow now, because he could and does, give her things? Would she want someone else, now that the option was there? Catra’s mind, although less verdant with envy than it was when she was younger, darkened at the thought. Did Adora choose her because she wanted to be with Catra, or because she thought she had no other options?

She didn’t know how relationships worked with other people. Growing up in the Fright Zone, they had never had the chance to watch and learn, so she didn’t know if giving people presents was the way it was done. 

Now that Bow had given her something, was Catra replaced? Was that how it worked? 

A small giggle echoed off to the side and she was shaken out of her panicked spiral by the impish look in Glimmer’s lavender eyes.

“I can see you panicking,” she cajoled, a mocking lilt to her tone but, underneath, a current of concern and care. “Don’t worry. Presents can be between friends and I know that’s how Bow means for his to be received. It’s something to help Adora in meetings so that she doesn’t have to keep asking you for translations. It also means that you don’t have to worry about her missing things and can actually concentrate on the meetings as well. Ideally, we’d like you to teach us the hand signals you and Adora use but there’s not the time right now, what with trying to reform the Princess Alliance and all and the number of people in these sorts of meetings. But, Bow and I want to learn so we can all talk together when we go out on missions and such.”

Catra must have looked nonplussed, her expression complete with open mouth and wide eyes. Glimmer giggled at her face, her smile wide and eyes sparkling with joy. 

“Your face is so funny!” she said, chuckling to herself, her hand raised to her mouth in mirth. Once her laughter had settled, she looked at Catra again, really looking at her shocked and slightly scared eyes. 

“Look, Catra. No one is trying to, or going to, replace you. What you and Adora share is special and we’re not trying to muscle in on that. But Bow and I want to be your friends,” she said gently, laying a cautious hand on Catra’s arm, looking directly into her scared, scared eyes. 

“And this is what friends do for each other.” 

Friendship wasn’t on the Horde curriculum, it wasn’t like tactics or military strategy, and, for all that the Horde cadets were drilled on teamwork, friendship was another level. There was a difference between tolerating people, and liking them. All these caveats of friendship were so new to Catra, she felt a little lost. 

For the longest time, it had been her and Adora against the world, but now, they could branch out and the possibilities were overwhelming for her. There were other people out there that had the same likes and dislikes. There were people other than Adora that she could talk to, vent to. A guilty part of her was delighted at the thought that she could rant at someone and have them hear her.

Whilst Catra was floored from this information, Glimmer smiled indulgently. Perhaps blowing the Horde cadets’ minds once today was enough. She looked up at the door and saw Bow leading Adora in by her hand, her cheeks stained with tear tracks and his mocha eyes soft. He was such a supportive person, welcoming and warm, but it was moments like this that reminded her of that and made her love him just a little more. 

One day, she’d work up the courage to tell him directly (hinting clearly wasn’t working), moving their relationship to romantic from platonic but, for today, they exchanged a reassuring smile. Their relationship would develop at its own pace, when they both were ready and, right now, they were needed to provide friendship for these lost, lonely girls more. Glimmer also was determined for her resurrection of the Princess Alliance to go well; she’d been trying to prove herself as a military commander for years but had been hampered in two ways.

Firstly, her mother had been limiting her missions. If she was anyone else, Queen Angella would have deployed her many more times, utilised her skills more and let her contribute to the Rebellion more. Secondly, with her mother being the queen, she had to combat the undercurrent of nepotism that ran through the thoughts of the soldiers and Rebellion members. She had to work twice as hard to achieve the basics, limited by her reduced opportunities provided by the queen. 

She’d been waiting years for this chance to build something by herself, to prove herself to her mother, her people, herself, and she wasn’t going to miss it.

Angella had been discussing the next steps for the Rebellion and this was her chance! Getting Perfuma’s backing had been important as Perfuma was a powerful princess with a strength to be reckoned with but she was, in her nature, a pacifist. If she could go to Salineas and get Mermista to join the Alliance would further their combative force and provide a tactical advantage with securing the oceanside access to Brightmoon. With the Whispering Woods, Plumeria and Salineas, Brightmoon would be virtually untouchable. 

Slamming her hand on the table and making the occupants of the table jump (barring Adora, who was staring intently at her new pad), she jumped to her feet swiftly. 

“We could go to Salineas and secure their support for the Rebellion and the Princess Alliance!” she cheered loudly and eagerly; her caramel skin flushed with excitement at the thought of recruiting another princess. Catra looked down at the holographic map of Salineas, noting that Salineas covered the length of the coastline, with the only access from the ocean being through the Sea Gate, a remnant of First Ones technology that acted as an impassable barrier, powered by the Salineas runestone: The Pearl. 

Tactically, Catra would attack the nation by collapsing the Sea Gate, making the country that had previously been undefeated through marine means crumble, crushing their mental defences at the same time. Why hadn’t the Horde taken the nation already? It wasn’t like them to leave such a powerful strategic nation to go unconquered.

When she voiced this aloud, she was reassured by the strength of the Sea Gate and frowned. If the Horde were as insidious as they were in Plumeria, and she wouldn’t put it passed them, then they may have come up with a way to circumnavigate the runestone and the Sea Gate’s power. Or were they simply biding their time for something else? 

“The journey to Salineas is treacherous, Glimmer. I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” Angella muttered, frowning at the map on the table.

“Don’t worry mum! With She-ra, we can conquer anything!” Glimmer boasted. A brief pause later, Adora’s voice piped up from next to her, having had the exchange transcribed onto her pad.

“And, uh, we’re gonna need a boat.”

“With She-ra and a boat, we can conquer anything!”

“And an experienced sea captain,” Bow chimed in, leaning back in his chair and smiling sheepishly to Glimmer. With a small amount of frustration, and through gritted teeth, Glimmer replied, sending a furious look around the table, quelling any further objections.

“With She-ra, a boat and an experienced sea captain, we can conquer anything!”

\--

The oceanside town of Seaworthy was built onto the cliff face itself, with moorings scattered around for the many ships anchored in the bay. Most of the vessels were anchored in the air, made for traversing the ocean with only a small part in contact. Catra and Adora had seen boats before, but the ones the Horde used were giant war vessels that came in full contact with the ocean’s surface and hulking, made of steel and rivets. These boats were slender and sleek, streamlined and beautifully made for speed.

The glint of the sun reflected off the ocean, an orange glow permeating around the bay and casting an amber light on the boats. The town was centred around the bay, displaying its main income and the livelihood of the residents easily. Right in the centre of the bay was tavern, its darkened doorway yawning into the abyss. Stepping inside, the Best Friend Squad paused on the threshold, looking at the patrons of the bar. They all appeared rough around the edges, with bandannas and eye patches, drinking their drinks steadily. 

“This is so cool!” Bow exclaimed, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Seaworthy is exactly as I imagined it. Everyone looks like a pirate!”

“Focus Bow,” Glimmer scolded, frowning lightly, “we’re just here to find a sea captain.”

“No pirates?” 

“No pirates.”

Snickering slightly behind them, Catra whispered “arrr” at a forlorn Bow and Adora let out a light laugh, having caught the exchange on her pad that was still out in front of her. She’d found that she’d been using her pad when she couldn’t see people’s mouths and it was proving to be a godsend.

Approaching the bar, Glimmer caught the attention of the woman behind it, who was wiping down a glass. She was sporting an anchor tattoo and an impressive pair of biceps that had Adora’s eyes sparkling and Catra glowering. Apparently, Adora had a type and it made Catra growl threateningly next to the blonde’s shoulder. Adora, not catching the growl but knowing Catra well enough, turned back to her and curled their hands together with a reassuring smile. Catra’s cheeks flushed a little and her tail let out a pleased sway. 

“Erm,” Glimmer started, faltering as she registered the size of the woman in front of her, who was now leaning on the bar intimidatingly. “We’re looking for a sea captain to take us to Salineas. I don’t suppose you’d know someone?” A callused thumb was pointed over the short-haired woman’s shoulder to a darkened corner where a crowd of patrons were stood surrounding a table. There seemed to be an arm-wrestling match going on, the reptilian Etherian seemingly losing to the person sitting in the shadowed corner. In front of the spectators, the reptilian lost and the crowd let up a raucous roar.

The others around the table left, leaving the shadowed man in the corner, his whisky dark eyes twinkling and a smirk on his moustached lips. His brown hair was swept to one side, showing off his red neckerchief boldly.

“Hi,” Glimmer stuttered, “we’re told you’re a sea captain?” 

“Why, yes, I am!” he crowed, standing swiftly and planting a booted foot on the table as he pointed to the distance. “I am the one, the only, Sea Hawk!”

“Your name is Sea Hawk? That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard!” Bow cried, stars in his eyes as he crooned up to the man at the table. Catra’s eyebrows raised, as did Adora’s when she read the translation on her pad. She could see herself getting frustrated with Sea Hawk: his moustache didn’t allow her to lip read and she was already finding him challenging. 

Glimmer primly sat down at the table, assessing Sea Hawk with a calculating gaze over her laced fingers. “Captain Sea Hawk, we’re interviewing potential captains to take us to Salineas. Would you like to apply for the position?”

A carefree laugh drifted across the table to them. “Apply for the position? I am the one and only Sea Hawk. I am offer only!”

Catra scoffed heavily, her eyes narrowing. “Just because you have “sea” in your name, doesn’t tell us anything about your actual qualifications.” A moment later, Sea Hawk hand a hand pressed to his chest like a medieval maiden. He quickly recovered his composure and slammed his hands on the table, leaning forwards to make himself seem taller and more intimidating. Bow was still staring at him with literal heart eyes, Glimmer appeared simultaneously unimpressed and ticked off. Having grown up in the Horde, Adora and Catra were unmoved by the paltry display of intimidation, them both having seen worse from Kyle, and that was saying something. 

“Qualifications? I once ran the fifty klick Galelbreath Gauntlet in less than twenty klicks! I manoeuvred the straits of Serpentine with nary a chip in the paint of my bow! My shanties are considered so desirable that sirens fling themselves into the sea at the sound of them!” He crowed loudly, his voice becoming more and more high pitched with each boast. “And, because I can tell you’re wondering, my moustache is naturally shiny!” 

Bow appeared ready to collapse on himself in admiration, clapping his hands gently and proclaiming Sea Hawk hired. A cocky smile appeared on the sailor’s face. “Whoa, what makes you think you can afford me?”

Glimmer let out a small laugh. “I assure you; money is no object.” He handed her a folded piece of paper and she blanched when she read it. “Money might be an object.” She steeled herself and said they could find another captain.

“Good luck with that! You won’t find another soul who knows the treacherous route to Salineas as well as I do. I brave it often to visit my close, personal friend, Princess Mermista.”

Catra had had enough now. She’d exchanged one sentence with Sea Hawk and she felt that she understood him enough now. Shallow, proud and egotistical to a fault. Whether that was his genuine personality of just one he was putting on in the tavern made no difference. He was currently here, in the tavern, and so, his personality wouldn’t change. Glimmer and Bow were starting to look a little crestfallen and she found herself wanting to stop her new friends from making those expressions. 

“Okay, Sand Bird, here’s the deal,” she smirked, getting into his personal space and noting the minute widening of his eyes. “Arm wrestling, one round, winner takes all. You win, we leave you alone. We win, you take us to Salineas, at no cost.”

With such an audience, he couldn’t refuse. If he declined, he’d lose his reputation and he knew it, with the way his eyes narrowed at her claim. Her lips curled further, a satisfied grin on her face.

“That is a terrible deal. But I am undefeated at arm wrestling! Let me show you how it’s done!” He planted himself back in his chair, his elbow propped on the table, waiting for his opponent. Catra’s smirk widened even further.

“Oh, I’m not wrestling you,” she claimed, turning slightly to the side to grasp Adora’s shoulders and push her forwards towards the table. The blonde frowned a little, checking her pad for the conversation and glancing to Catra with questioning blue eyes. Catra nodded, patting her gently and reassuringly on the shoulder and Adora smiled in response. 

Taking the seat opposite Sea Hawk, Adora extended her own arm, a challenging glint in her eyes and her eyebrows raised in provocation. Sea Hawk saw the exchange between the girls, uncertain about the silent blonde who now sat in front of him as she was the only one who hadn’t spoken during their conversation. Was she the muscle? 

Grasping their hands together, they began to wrestle and their upper body strength was, seemingly, equally matched in a stalemate. Sea Hawk looked into Adora’s eyes, grinning at the challenge and taunting “is this the best you’ve got? I once beat a Tyrosaur with biceps the size of my head in a match that lasted two weeks!” 

Unfortunately for him, Adora didn’t respond to the taunt and pushed an extra spurt of energy into her arm, slamming his hand down on the roughly hewn wooden table in victory. Catra’s wicked grin extended further and Adora looked up to her in success, tilting her head to one side. Unable to help herself, Catra pecked a small kiss on Adora’s flushed cheek as a reward. 

(Unnoticed to the two, Glimmer and Bow exchanged a look, Glimmer in smug knowledge and Bow in silent acquiescence. Glimmer was right about their relationship: they were more than friends.) 

“Well, Captain Sea Hawk,” Glimmer purred and Catra was impressed at the knowing self-satisfaction in her voice, “shall we depart?” The sailor began to make splutters about losing on purpose and wanting to go to Salineas anyway, but they all stood to leave Seaworthy.

And, on the balcony above them, unseen by everyone, was a shadow spy, formless and shapeless, soundlessly transmitting all back to Shadow Weaver in the Fright Zone. 

\--

Back in the Fright Zone, receiving the information through her mystical mirror, Shadow Weaver called for one of the Force Captains. A large, menacing shape formed from the shadows of the Black Garnet chamber as a tall, buff Scorpioni female stepped forwards, her short white hair closely cropped at the sides and her pincers red and wickedly sharp. 

“You summoned me, Shadow Weaver,” she said, her dark lips curling upwards in a slight smile as she saluted briskly. 

“Force Captain Scorpia,” Shadow Weaver purred, beckoning her forwards to look in her mirror. Upon the water’s surface, Scorpia could see five people apparently leaving a tavern. “Something of mine has shown up in Seaworthy and I have reason to believe it’s heading to Salineas. I want you to get it back for me.” 

“Oh, wow. Um, what am I getting exactly?” she said, her pincers clicking together in nervousness. This would be her first assignment as Force Captain and she was simultaneously excited and filled with trepidation. The mirror focussed on the blonde of the group, her blue eyes happy and a wide smile on her lips as she was pulled onwards by the feline girl. 

“Adora is mine and I want her, and her sword, back. You will retrieve her for me. You’ll take one of our ships but I want Adora back here tonight, am I understood Force Captain?” Her tone brokered no arguments and sent a shiver down Scorpia’s exoskeleton. She nodded but wondered what would happen if she failed. She hadn’t been one of Shadow Weaver’s cadets, being a part of Grizzlor’s group, but she’d heard stories. And she knew the power of the Black Garnet from her grandfather, who had gifted it to Hordak when he came to stay with them. 

The boat they were travelling in was an imposing steel warship and she stood on deck with three more of Shadow Weaver’s recruits, all standing at parade rest and all looking at her expectantly. What was she supposed to do here? 

“Um, hi?” she said, waving an awkward pincer back and forth. The cadets in front of her appeared unimpressed, a dark brow rising on the woman’s face and a huff of breath coming through the reptilian’s nose. The skinny blond boy waved back tentatively and she perked up at that. “I’m Force Captain Scorpia and I’ll be in charge for this mission. Just so you know, I’m a hugger!” 

She approached the trio and gripped them all in her arms tightly, used to the squirming of others to escape her hugs but back in familiar territory. The blond, Kyle, seemed to attempting to hug her back, which was nice, but the woman and the reptilian were writhing in her grip. This, she had control over and it reassured her greatly; she couldn’t control the selection of the mission, the conduct of the mission (yet) or the outcome (yet) but she could control the hug. 

She released the hug and briefed her team on the plan: travel to Salineas and retrieve something for Shadow Weaver. Her team ran off in different directions to prepare the boat for sea travel and from there, she sat back and enjoyed the wind in her hair and the water surrounding her on all sides. 

Man, she loved the sea. 

\--

Catra desperately tried to keep her breakfast as they travelled across the ocean on Sea Hawk’s ship: The Dragon’s Daughter III. When they’d asked what had happened to one and two, the answer they got was a terrifying “Tragically, they went down in flames!” This had caused the girls to exchange a terrified glance as Bow shamelessly twinkled at the sailor in awe. 

“How’d that happen?” 

“I set them on fire!” Sea Hawk exclaimed as he leapt up onto the prow of the ship and thrust his finger towards the horizon. “Onwards, to adventure!” 

Bow let out a giddy squeal and Catra gave Glimmer an unimpressed side eye. “Are we sure about this guy?” 

“He just has to get us there,” she whispered back, looking as fed up as Catra felt. Adora had started moving heavy boxes around on deck, trying to clear it to unfurl the jib whilst Sea Hawk approached Bow, who was sitting next to the mainsail. She paid little attention to him as he left Bow and approached Glimmer, throwing an arm around her shoulder. She let out a small laugh though when Glimmer teleported out from under his arm into the crow’s nest, leading him to overbalance and almost fall. 

Further into their journey, Glimmer was starting to get the impression that they were heading in the wrong direction; their location on the map Sea Hawk had given her was way off from where they needed to be. Around them, mist began to coil on the surface of the water as the hull of the ship brushed up against the broken remains of other boats. The sound of the waves settled into silence and all Glimmer could hear was the cheering from beneath her as Catra and Bow cheered Adora on in another arm-wrestling match with Sea Hawk. She teleported down the rigging in a flurry of sparkles, making Sea Hawk fall backwards off his crate in alarm, Adora and Catra jump mildly and Bow didn’t react at all, too used to it.

“Something’s wrong,” she said, “we’re way off course.” At that moment, there was a thunderous crash against the starboard side of the hull, rocking the ship dangerously as it teetered off balance. Catra furiously grasped at Adora’s shoulder, barely coping with the motion of the boat in calm waters, let alone in choppy ones, and Sea Hawk got reacquainted with the floor.

“What was that?” Bow asked, creeping towards the edge of the ship to peer into the water timidly. He had drawn his bow and had an arrow loosely nocked but couldn’t see anything to fire upon. In the background, Sea Hawk applauded. “Aha! We’re here! I knew the Serpent of the Sea was lurking in these waters!”

And then, a scaled head crested from the blue waters below with a force that sent the boat rocking backwards. The serpent’s head was covered with iridescent scales, its slitted eyes laser focussed on them and its undulating body dancing through the water easily. Those gathered on the boat stared in horror at the gigantic beast before them. 

“You brought us here?!” Catra screamed, her claws gouging into the wood of the mast as she held on for dear life, unable to let go otherwise she’d be knocked overboard. Glimmer and Bow weren’t much better, grasping at the sails in desperation as Sea Hawk proclaimed something about providing them with adventure. 

A flash of light in the periphery of her vision and there was She-ra, rushing forwards and diving into the water to grapple with the beast. They both sunk beneath the surface of the water and the boat finally regained balance to stop rocking as much, allowing Glimmer to lay into Sea Hawk. Normally, Catra would be joining in but she was more occupied with keeping her breakfast down and watching the ocean intently for Adora to resurface. 

When she finally did breach the surface, Catra was ready with a rope to pull her back on board, heart pounding with relief and half an ear on Glimmer as she finished up her verbal evisceration of Sea Hawk.

“Unbelievable! We’re trying to save Etheria and all you care about is whether we’re impressed with you? I need this mission to go right or my mum will never give me another one! Just get us to Salineas, you’ve wasted enough of our time!” Glimmer appeared to be two seconds away from wringing Sea Hawk’s neck, who had backed into the mast. She was being restrained by Bow’s hands on her shoulders as the princess turned crimson with anger.

Adora, still as She-ra, was wringing water from her hair and whispered across to Catra.

“What did I miss?”

\--

Salineas had the appearance of a ghost town. The buildings, made with white washed walls and beach coloured roofs, were uninhabited. There were no people in the streets, the marina was empty and even the air felt still, without even a hint of a breeze. Adora looked over to Catra, giving her a quizzical look and a questioning hand wave. Catra’s answering shrug suggested that she didn’t know why the city was so desolate. Sparing a quick glance to Glimmer, Bow and Sea Hawk, she could see that they mirrored her confusion and concern started to blossom wildly in her chest. 

Where was everyone?

In the distance, there seemed to be someone approaching rapidly, sprinting down a spiralled marble staircase towards them, a sceptre held in their hands as they came closer. Their navy hair was pinned up in a top knot as their dark eyes held scepticism. 

They were led by this guard into the throne room where an opulent throne was placed at the end, beneath the Salineas runestone: The Pearl. It shone with an opalescent glow, anchored above the coral back of the throne. Surrounding the throne were ancient murals, depicting the formation of the Sea Gate and the founding of Salineas, and one side of the throne room was covered entirely with water, creating a curtain of water in a shimmering blue.

Seated upon the throne was a beautiful woman, her milk chocolate skin offsetting her dark indigo hair that was braided over one shoulder. She had sable eyes and darkly slashing lips that were curled into an impressive deadpan expression, and was dressed in turquoise and gold shirt and trousers. Clutched in her hand was an impressive golden trident, handsomely polished and wickedly sharp; a fitting allegory for the princess who held it.

Approaching the throne, Glimmer introduced the group to Princess Mermista and asked her to join the Princess Alliance. Mermista raised an unimpressed eyebrow and scoffed slightly. 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t really spare anyone right now. I’m a little understaffed, what with everyone fleeing Salineas because the Gate is falling to pieces.” There was a small pause as Mermista pulled her impressive deadpan façade over her face after a brief glimpse at the panic she was feeling inside. “I mean, no-one knows why it’s breaking but it’s getting weaker every day. If the Horde tries to attack us now, we’re pretty much dead.” Bow, Glimmer and Catra shouted in horror at the proclamation and Sea Hawk nodded solemnly in the background. The prospect of Salineas falling wasn’t one that any of them wanted to think about as it would have far reaching ramifications for the Rebellion and, as good as Mermista was at playing herself to be uncaring and aloof, she was cracking under the pressure of a potential invasion.

Adora kept one eye on her pad as she wandered the room to look more closely at the murals. She could see the lines of text updating as the conversation continued behind her, but her eyes were completely drawn to the mural before her. Woven into the tapestry of the art were words, long branching lines with symbols above and below them. To Adora, they were telling the tale of the formation of the Sea Gate.

A tap on her shoulder turned her attention away and to Catra, who raised a questioning brow. “It’s the story of how the First One’s built the Sea Gate,” she said, unknowingly gathering the attention of the others in the room. After Glimmer’s round of introductions, Mermista and Sea Hawk had devolved into bickering about their past and Sea Hawk had ended up being booted from the princess’ lap with a large tick forming on her forehead. At Adora’s voice, they all turned to her and Mermista asked: “who is she again and what’s she doing?”

“That’s Adora,” Bow helpfully chimed up. “She has a magic sword.”

“And apparently can read long forgotten text,” Glimmer said, abandoning her stance in front of Mermista to come up to Adora’s other side. Looking at the picture herself, the text appeared to be nonsense doodles to her, but Adora seemed to be able to read it. Did Adora know how much of a big deal this was?

“What does it say?” she asked after Adora turned to her. The blonde frowned slightly, eyes darkening in puzzlement.

“Can’t you read it?” she asked back and Glimmer shook her head. Looking behind her to Catra, the feline also shook her head negatively. 

“Maybe it’s something to do with She-ra?” Catra said, laying a gentle hand on Adora’s forearm in reassurance. That must be it. It must be a She-ra thing, right?

“You’re telling me she’s She-ra?” Mermista deadpanned from by her throne, slowly approaching the group. Bow and Sea Hawk hung backwards, Sea Hawk gazing at Mermista with adoring eyes, Bow doing the same with Sea Hawk.

“Not now. She gets bigger,” Glimmer flapped her hand and Mermista silently fumed at the dismissal. “What does it say Adora?”

Adora read what was written on the wall about the Sea Gate drawing power from The Pearl, she realised that the Gate may be failing due to the connection to the Salinean runestone. 

“Can you fix it?” Catra asked, a plan forming in her head. She had always excelled in tactics and strategies and, if Adora could fix the Sea Gate, it would put Mermista in a position where she would be more likely to join the Princess Alliance. Adora shrugged helplessly.

“I can try.”

Catra could work with that. Turning to the marine princess, she squared her shoulders and looked directly at her, mirroring her crossed arms and cocked hip. “Ok, Princess. How about this: we fix your Gate; you join the Alliance? A simple trade deal.” Mermista narrowed her eyes, trying to find the catch in what Catra had just offered but the feline just stood there, staring impassively at her and waiting. After a few moments, she threw her head back and groaned to the ceiling. 

“Fine! But he-“ she pointed to Sea Hawk, “-has to leave.”

\--

The Sea Gate was in a poor state, pockets of water sprouting through the failing translucent circuitry and glitching every few seconds. It had the appearance of an ephemeral cloak that had been stored with moths, finely made and exquisitely beautiful with sporadic holes marring its beauty. In the centre of the Gate stood a glowing anchor stone; a mirror for The Pearl and it acted as the battery for the Gate, it’s blue light spluttering on occasion and the lines of programming splintered as it radiated outwards. 

On their way to the Sea Gate, Sea Hawk had schlepped back to his boat, head hung low in sadness and Bow gazed after him like a war wife watching him leave. Catra and Adora had walked to the ascending rocks as Mermista was briefed by Glimmer on Adora’s special needs. By the time they all reached the floating rock in front of the anchor stone, there were five of them and Adora had transformed into She-ra. Mermista’s dark eyes widened at the sight of the tall warrior princess and her dark lips fell open with a wordless gasp. 

Taking a deep, grounding breath, Adora lifted her sword parallel to the ocean surface and sent out a pulse of magical energy towards the fractured Sea Gate, feeling it’s fraying edges like cloth and its struggling protection. Releasing a small burst of energy along the fragile tendril she had formed, she smiled as she felt the Gate taking the energy from her and start to repair itself.   
“Is it working?” Bow asked, touching Adora on the shoulder. She had been so focussed on her task that she let out a jump and lost her connection to the Sea Gate. 

“Don’t distract me! This is a lot harder than it looks!”

“You got this, Princess!” Catra purred behind Adora, who looked over her shoulder at her.

“I can never tell if you’re being mean or not with that nickname,” the blonde muttered and Catra let out a loud laugh, her head thrown back in abandon. Catra and Bow settled themselves down on either side of Adora, watching the repairs permeating through the Gate from the anchor stone. Mermista, who had initially been captivated by the magical power She-ra was wielding, had lost interest and was sitting on the edge of the floating rock, her head resting on one hand as she stared off at the horizon. Glimmer sighed, thinking this would take a while, and looked down at Salineas’ port to see Sea Hawk untying his ship from the dock. 

“I’ll be back in a minute,” she snarled, “I just have something I need to take care of.”

“I know that tone,” Mermista said, her eyes not moving from their spot on the horizon, “feel free to kill him.”

Appearing on the deck of the Dragon’s Daughter III in a flurry of sparkles, Glimmer had a moment of smug satisfaction at the face that Sea Hawk shrieked and leapt backwards in fright, dropping the box he was loading onto the deck. 

“I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop doing that!” he groaned, almost pulling his moustache out in frustration. Glimmer’s face thundered as she looked over the fully stocked deck and the furled rigging; the ship looked ready to sail away.

“Are you leaving without us?” a mercurial brow arched at the question, copied straight from her mother’s expression bank. Sea Hawk wilted before her, collapsing onto one of the boxes and ran his hands into his hair. 

“It’s for the best, I’m only getting in your way,” he sighed. “It’s time for old Sea Hawk to be where he belongs: alone.” He got a wistful, nostalgic look in his eyes as he continued. “It wasn’t always like this. Where I’m from, I had friends, a crew. Every day was an adventure more daring than the last. The fact that I kept setting my boats on fire was considered charming, but here, no one will take me seriously.”

Sighing heavily, Glimmer sat next to him, their shoulders brushing but not looking at one another. “Yeah, I know a little about not being taken seriously.” Sea Hawk glanced down at her in disbelief.

“But you’re a princess?” 

“Try being the daughter to an immortal queen when your power are sparkles,” she bemoaned, a shimmer of glitter following her frustrated hand wave. “I’ve been trying to get my mum to take me seriously for years and she finally gives me this mission and I can’t even do this right!”

“Glimmer,” Sea Hawk said, “I can tell you’re a brave, courageous and powerful soul and any who underestimate you will live to sorely regret it.” Glimmer felt a little reassured by this and patted the sailor on the arm in appreciation.

“Thanks, Sea Hawk. And you still have friends,” standing, she executed a salute similar to what she’d seen Adora do but probably looking ridiculous doing it, “and a crew. Reporting for duty, Captain!”

They shared a moment of calm, a new found respect passing between them as they truly began to understand each other. This moment was broken by the echoing blast of a laser cannon, its crimson energy heading straight for the floating rock upon which the others were gathered. Without the opportunity to turn around, or react, the energy hit Adora square in the back, causing her to scream with pain. She dropped her sword, her muscles seizing with electrical discharge as she collapsed to her knees. The magic she was funnelling into the Sea Gate ceased and the fractures that had been repairing themselves reappeared when the magical support ended. 

“Adora!” Catra screamed, leaping to her feet and crowding the blonde. She rested her panicked gaze on Adora who was on her knees with her jaw twitching violently as the final remnants of electricity ran through her system. It looked too much like Shadow Weaver’s attacks, the dancing red lances spreading over the blonde’s skin and Catra was temporarily back in the Black Garnet chamber, powerless and useless. 

Adora furiously tried to get her tongue moving again but voluntary muscle control seemed out of her reach as Catra wrapped herself around her, an ineffective shield. Following the first shot, the Horde battleship that had fired it sailed into view from behind a crag of rocks, powering up to fire another. The second shot hit the Sea Gate, which groaned under the added insult and more water rushed out of it in a torrent. Mermista rushed towards the other side of the rock, trying to use her powers of hydromancy to stem the water’s flow but it was in vain. 

Shaking herself back to normal, Adora stood, pleased that She-ra’s transformation had maintained throughout and raised her sword, preparing to continue to fix the Gate. “I just need a little more time!”

“We’ll keep them busy,” Catra said, unsheathing her claws as Bow nocked an arrow. Mermista rolled her eyes but took a running leap to the edge of the rock, diving into the water with nary a splash. As she fell, her legs transformed into a turquoise mermaid tail and she cut through the ocean waves without resistance to reach the Horde battleship. 

Surfacing, she drew on her own connection to The Pearl and summoned lances of water to attack the vital points of the ship, taking out their weapons and damaging the structural integrity with pinpoint accuracy. 

Bow released his arrow into the turret of the ship, trailing a long rope behind it and he abseiled onto the deck, using the crimson Horde sail to slow his descent. Immediately as he landed, he loosened another arrow into the skinny blond’s shirt, pinning him to the wall with a loud thud. The fierce looking woman with dreadlocks approached him, her stun baton crackling with electricity and Bow began to fend it off with his bow. Traditionally, the bow and arrow were ranged weapons, not meant for close quarters melee but Bow’s was made of firmer materials, making him able to parry blows using the shaft of his weapon. He took a shot and his opponent laughed as he missed but he simply smiled with the knowledge that he wasn’t aiming at her.

The buff Scorpioni woman manning the electrical cannon let out a surprised gasp as the arrow landed in the shaft of the cannon, exploding into a green semi-solid mass that clogged the mechanisms and stopped her from firing it again. She turned and saw Lonnie and the Rebel in hand to hand combat and she saw him punch Lonnie backwards, only for her to stumble into the path of a water stream, knocking her to the deck with a loud bang. Although she hadn’t known the cadets for long, she couldn’t let her team down, so she rushed towards the Rebel and clasped her pincers in his shirt collar. Dangling from her pincers, he stared at her and she tossed him over the edge of the ship, only remembering after she let go that the port side had the engines on it and he was heading straight for them. 

As Bow plummeted towards the whirring blades of the engine, he screamed loudly and thought he could hear the echo of Glimmer screaming as well but he couldn’t be sure. All he was sure of was the rapidly approaching metal and his impending doom when he was yanked up around the middle. Looking upwards, he gasped in surprise as he saw Catra swinging on a rope with one hand and holding him in her other, her face a mask of determination. Catra hated the ocean, he knew that. She’d told him that and he’d seen it for himself on the journey over. In fact, Catra had studiously not looked at any of the surrounding body of water at any point during the day, choosing to focus on Adora or the Sea Gate.

For her to catch him, she would have had to leap into the vast blue waters with her rope and swing past, all the while seeing nothing but blue. Bow was touched that she would do that for him and vowed to repay her when he could.

They landed heavily on the deck of Sea Hawk’s ship, thudding in a pile together and Catra loosened her death grip on the rope, her hands shaking more than they perhaps should be. She hadn’t wanted to do that; she was perfectly content on the rock next to Adora under the pretence of protecting her from further blasts but she’d seen Bow get manhandled and she had looked to Adora.

“Go,” her love had whispered to her, “go be the hero I know you are.” And before she knew what was happening, she’d leapt off the side of the rock to land bone shatteringly hard on the deck of Sea Hawk’s ship, grabbed a rope that she could swing with and jumped. 

Trying to get her breath back, she rested on all fours on the deck, hearing a splash behind her as Mermista came aboard and the fluttering concerns of Glimmer over Bow. She glanced up to the floating rock and saw Adora, still focussed on repairing the Gate but a small, gentle smile on her face at Catra’s actions. Her form stumbled briefly though, her sword lowering but not dropping, as the rock shook from another laser cannon blast. Looking back across to the Horde vessel, they could see that a secondary cannon had been deployed and was charging up again for another shot. 

Catra’s heart leapt up into her throat, more terrified now than when she jumped into the endless blue waters before. How could she protect Adora down here? She’d never reach her in time. She desperately looked around for something, anything she could do, but her frantic musings were interrupted by Glimmer.

“I have a plan but no one is allowed to tell my mum about this.” A wicked smirk grew on her lips as she turned to Sea Hawk who was standing behind the ship’s wheel. “Sea Hawk, I need you to do what you do best.”

Sea Hawk looked a little perturbed and queried what that was. It was in this moment that Catra knew she and Glimmer would be friends, eventually. Friendship was built on sharing likes and mannerisms and here, she knew that she and Glimmer were very, very similar in those regards.

“Set your ship on fire!” 

With a victorious charge, Sea Hawk’s ship rushed towards the Horde vessel, a tiny David confronting the mighty Goliath. Mermista had taken Bow and a very reluctant Catra with her, helping them travel through the water back to the floating rock as Glimmer and Sea Hawk stood at the helm of the ship. Just before collision, Sea Hawk set some of his cargo aflame, the fire quickly spreading across the deck and into the masts. 

Glimmer and Sea Hawk released a simultaneous cry of “Adventure!” as Glimmer teleported them off the boat and onto the floating rock in an instant. Bow and Mermista were stood watching the ensuing fallout as they twinkled into existence next to them, with a waterlogged Catra sulking next to a snickering Adora who was still powering the Gate. With a mighty crash and roar, the two ships collided and the Horde vessel exploded in a fiery conflagration. Four heads bobbed out of the water as the occupants of the Horde ship grasped onto passing driftwood to swim away. 

Bow and Sea Hawk exchanged a high five as Mermista and Glimmer smiled at each other. Facing the other direction, Adora was finishing up her repairs to the Gate, it taking much less energy now, and she spared a fond look at Catra.

“Well, looks like someone got a little waterlogged,” she snickered, staring at Catra’s damp mane and sodden fur with glee. Catra hated water of any kind and took great pains to avoid contact at all costs so it was a treat for Adora to see her like this. Catra sent a truly venomous glare up to her from where she was curled on the earth, the slight sea breeze drying her slightly. Adora poured the last bit of energy needed into the Gate and sat next to her, watching as the final patches were repaired and the anchor stone shone with health. 

“I nearly had a heart attack when the ship attacked you and I was on the boat,” Catra muttered, looking anywhere but at Adora’s kind eyes. In that moment that the laser cannon was powering up again and she couldn’t do anything but watch, she’d felt herself die a little inside. 

“You were where you needed to be,” Adora responded, smiling up at the Gate. “In that moment Bow needed you and you were there.”

“But what do I do when you don’t need me anymore?” came the answering whisper as Catra curled herself into a small ball, not wanting to hear Adora’s answer. 

“Of course, I’ll always need you, Catra! You’re everything to me!” They spent a moment next to each other, soaking in the other’s presence in silence.

“Besides, you can’t expect a Princess to go anywhere without her hero now, can you?” she whispered, receiving a small ear twitch in response. A baleful eye glared up at her when she rested her hand at the base of the ear to scratch the scalp there. Adora laughed in response and released her transformation, turning back into her normal self but still with the same smile, same laugh, same love for Catra. 

And, as they journeyed home in a new boat, gifted to Sea Hawk by Mermista, the newest member of the Princess Alliance, they knew that no matter what happened, they would support each other through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's changeover week next week, so chances are the next update might take a little longer. Sorry in advance
> 
> Let me know what you think   
> BYB x


	6. System Fail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bow knew Catra enough to know that if Adora wanted something, Catra would crawl through broken glass to provide it for her, resulting in her being cut and sliced to ribbons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support; I'm completely blown away

Thunderstorms were not something unfamiliar to Catra and Adora; growing up in the Fright Zone, they were used to crashes of thunder and crackles of lightning. Given the Black Garnet’s power harnessed electricity, there was always a heavy note of static in the air, a barometric pressure drop that was constantly heralding a storm and occasionally culminated in regular thunder. Outside of those, the Fright Zone was a constant overcast of murky clouds.

So, when a thunderstorm crashed across Etheria and hit the castle of Brightmoon, the Horde girls reacted with barely a twitch. Catra’s fur had been standing on end for most of the afternoon, reacting to the impending storm. Although she wasn’t the biggest fan of lightning, the arcs of electricity reminding her too much of Shadow Weaver, she knew, logically, that the two weren’t related.

(If she still flinched at the flashes of light, that was completely unrelated).

That morning, Adora and Catra had been led to Brightmoon’s expansive library, there being no missions for them to go on and the impending storm making them reluctant to leave the castle. Catra had fervently refused to leave the safety of the building, having only recently been “drowned at sea” in her own words and not wanted any further “waterboarding”, again, her own words. They’d been led there by Bow and Glimmer, trundling behind them hand-in-hand as the Brightmoon pair exchanged excited looks. Adora was showing Catra her new pad, testing the text to voice feature for Adora when she didn’t want to speak, walking next to each other with heads bent together. 

“This is going to be so good!” Glimmer squealed silently to Bow, her twinkling eyes bright and unable to keep an excited smile from her lips. She was really looking forward to seeing how the Horde pair reacted to the library; she was sure that they had never seen one before. 

Bow smiled back at her indulgently, excited as well. He risked a glance back to the pair but saw them wrapped up in each other (no change there then) and following them blindly and full of trust. 

When they reached the doors to the library, Bow and Glimmer paused, shared a giddy grin and each reached for one of the tall doors. With a grand pull, they opened the doors and revealed their surprise to the others, whose jaws dropped at the sight.

Arching spiral staircases wound up on either side of the large paned window, leading to a second floor. Stretching back further than anyone could see were rows and rows of books, leather bound and pristinely filed. Nestled around were chaise lounges and overstuffed arm chairs for reading in, a fireplace standing unlit in one corner. 

After opening the doors, Glimmer rushed forwards into the library and started exalting it to the girls, whereas Bow stood back to check their reactions. Adora was staring at the rows and rows of books with wide, sparkling eyes, her face a picture of wonder. Catra had the same look on her face that she had looking at the coastline in Salineas: overwhelmed and petrified. He knew that Catra was intelligent and when she gained comfort and security, he was sure she would hole herself up in the library but right now, she didn’t trust it enough to do that. This was clearly a new experience for them and Bow didn’t think that Catra particularly liked those. She struck him as someone who didn’t like surprises. But Adora was clearly in love with the library.

Bow knew Catra enough to know that if Adora wanted something, Catra would crawl through broken glass to provide it for her, resulting in her being cut and sliced to ribbons. He also knew that if Adora thought Catra wouldn’t go for it, Adora would pretend not to want it to stop Catra from trying to give it to her. He had only known them for a short while but they were shocking in their co-dependence and self-sacrificial tendencies. 

He could see this going one of two ways: Adora would explore the library and Catra would as well, hating every moment or Adora would pretend to hate it, leading them away for Catra’s sake. They weren’t ready to spend time apart and his heart ached at the thought of one of them being unhappy. 

(Bad things had happened when Catra and Adora were separated. In the Horde, Catra would come back from solo study sessions with a new bruise or a bleeding laceration, Adora would come back to the barracks with a black spot in her memory after a session with Shadow Weaver. It was only when they were together that Adora could protect Catra from the other cadets and instructors. It was only when they were together that Catra could stop Shadow Weaver from grasping Adora’s head between her insidious palms and worsening her moth ridden memory.

Back before Adora had lost her hearing, she’d been laid on her bed in the barracks as Catra skulked in, having done some independent training. She’d been covered in bruises and was bleeding sluggishly from her brow, her blue eye swollen shut. She’d stoked her anger towards Octavia for years afterwards, a slow burning furnace that smouldered with intensity.

Back before Adora had lost her hearing, Catra had picked her up from outside the Black Garnet chamber, summoned by Shadow Weaver’s command and Adora’s scream. She’d shouldered the blonde back to the barracks, mind flashing over what she’d seen: Adora writhing, strapped to a bench between Shadow Weaver’s hands. Adora remembered nothing of the event, Catra couldn’t forget it.)

Being the people pleaser that he was, he really wanted everyone to be happy and it was painful to him that someone might not be content. But Glimmer had already thought of that as well. Twinkling back to the entrance from her impromptu tour, she looped her hands around Catra and Adora’s spare ones; their others being held in a death grip by each other. 

“I thought that we could spend some time in here today, but I really wanted Catra to start teaching me the hand signals you both use,” she said, speaking a mile a minute to the extent that Adora had to check her pad to catch what she had said. Bow personally thought it was an ingenious decision: give Adora the chance to explore the library whilst giving Catra the security of being in the same space but being in charge of something. It would cater to both of them and also give them a little experience doing separate things in the same space. Baby steps. 

Glimmer was brash and bold and beautiful. She could sometimes seem like she didn’t notice, or care, what others thought, a bit like Catra, but it was moments like this that highlighted and showcased how careful that carelessness was. There was a dissonant duality in the way she behaved; an incongruous juxtaposition of confidence and shyness, bravery and timidity, irrational and rational all at once. And Bow loved it. Loved her. 

When the storm finally hit Brightmoon, heavy rains lashing against the windows and thunder reverberating through the floor, the foursome of the Best Friend Squad were all curled up in the library. Adora was sitting with her legs tucked under her in one of the over stuffed chairs next to the fireplace that had been lit with a roaring fire, a book in her lap covered in First One’s writing as she lost herself in the words. Her pad was resting on one of the arms, screen down as she focussed on her book.

Catra was seated on the rug in front of her, her head resting on Adora’s crossed knees as she formed symbols to Bow and Glimmer, who were sat across from her. They were moving their hands and fingers in a fumbling mimicry of Catra’s dextrous gestures. Over the course of the day, Catra had relaxed in the walls of the library, throwing her head back to laugh at Glimmer’s frustrated pout. When she jumped a little at the flash of lightning through the window, Adora rested a hand on her scalp, next to the base of her ear, reassuring her with her presence.

The next flash of light garnered no reaction from her as she relaxed into Adora’s hand and laughed at Glimmer’s baleful expression.

\--

Across Etheria, in the mechanical nation of Dryl, the thunderstorm was raging onwards as well, leading to the organic residents taking cover in their homes until the furious winds passed over. The non-organic residents of Dryl were numerous, robots constructed by Princess Entrapta to help with the labour of the city and in the mines. They were rolling back and forth in the midst of the pouring rain, the lightning flashes illuminating them briefly moving around the central courtyard. Between the flashes, they were simply eerie dots of red lights, their eyes menacing in the darkness.

In the castle itself, there were still kitchen staff working, Entrapta’s robots currently unable to manage the intricacies of fine cookery just yet. A rotund woman was shakily putting the finishing touches on her tiny cupcake, frosting a pig on top with daintiness that belied her form. Just as she was about to put the final swirl on, a crash of thunder echoed outside and she jumped, her foamy green hair bouncing with her shock and her hand releasing a drop of pink buttercream onto the plate.

A dark-skinned woman approached behind her, quickly wiping up the droplet and putting the cupcake on a tray as a teal haired man presented a bottle of fizzy pop to the waiting robot. The robot took the tray and bottle with a silent claw, drifting away on its wheel. All three released a sigh as the robot left, not entirely comfortable with the mechanical butler, especially on such a stormy night.

In the depths of the labyrinthine castle, Entrapta was working on her latest find. The nation of Dryl wasn’t arable, nor were they particularly strategically placed but they had extensive subterranean mines that the robots helped to excavate. Recently, a First One’s data chip had been discovered, fully intact and full of code. Entrapta had been working for the last few days (no wait, weeks. Or was it months?) on decoding the information on it and it was slow going.

But this didn’t discourage Entrapta, if anything it spurred her on further and lit a brighter fire in her, urging her deeper and deeper into her scientific experiment. The robot butler wheeled closer to her in her laboratory, centred at the heart of her castle, and placed the tray off to one side. When she had finished her current test, Entrapta lifted her faceplate and the tray covering with her prehensile lavender hair, hurriedly eating the contents of the tray. Her garnet eyes were sparkling as she continued to look at the data chip, tendrils of hair holding soldering irons and her recorder. 

“Log 104,” she started and paused. Was it 104 or 103? Or maybe 105? “Anyway, log 103-4-5, First One’s artifact had yielded a treasure trove of intact code. If I can successfully translate it, it could hold the secrets of the First Ones and help me develop my robots further, given their base coding is from First One’s tech.” Her eyes sparkled at the possibility, mind racing with the experiments she had yet to do. 

Unseen by her as she was dictating her notes, a penetrating red root began to grow from the data chip, leeching into the surrounding technology and causing a red override to appear on the screens of the hardware. This then spread further, transmitted wirelessly to her mobile robots through their base network. Blinking insidiously, her robot’s eyes began to take on the colour of the override and they began to act out of their programming, inching towards her and the chip. Looking up, Entrapta’s eyes widened but not in fear or trepidation as her mind began to whirl with the possibilities.

“Fascinating,” she uttered into her recorder, “this chip could be the biggest step yet into integrating ancient and modern technology.” She was about to continue further but her soldering iron was knocked out of her hair by a robot flinging a tray at her. This made no sense; none of her robots were programmed with the potential for violence and they had certainly never displayed any violence towards her before. She wanted to investigate this further but a tiny part of her mind was reminding her that she should possibly not be alone with them right now. 

Her social and emotional spectrum wasn’t as developed as her scientific one but she recognised the ominous glow in her robot’s eyes and the armament of weapons in their claws. A distant part of her lizard brain told her it was time to run. 

\--

The council meeting that morning had begun as most did: Glimmer and Angella getting into a disagreement over the Rebellion’s next move. Angella wanted to consolidate their resources now that Plumeria and Salineas were part of the alliance but Glimmer wanted to gather further members. Princess Entrapta, like Spinnerella and Netossa, was a princess that wasn’t connected to a runestone and she had no overt magical powers of her own but she was an expert with technology. One thing that Glimmer had learned from her years dreaming of battling the Horde was that they were technologically advanced, often appearing to make extra-terrestrial leaps in their abilities. With people like Bow and the Maker’s Community, the Rebellion could develop certain pieces of technology but they were limited.

Entrapta was a master engineer and a technological savant; for all she lacked in magical prowess, she made up in intellectual ability and this would be a huge boon for the Rebellion. Looking at the holographic map, Dryl was isolated and separated as a nation, appearing nestled in the barren mountains and surrounded by mines; there would be no pressing need for the Horde to attack such a nation as it would yield no tactical advantage. So, Glimmer argued, it would be a low risk mission with a high reward if they could get Entrapta on their side.

And, like most council meetings ended: Angella had sighed in exhausted acquiescence as Glimmer whooped in triumph and, once the storm had burned out, the Best Friend Squad departed for Dryl. As they hiked through the tortuous mountain pass, rocks stretching up on all sides, Bow was waxing lyrical about Entrapta’s abilities. 

“She’s such a brilliant inventor! She makes robots and rehabilitates old First One’s technology. She’s like a superstar in the Maker’s Community,” he explained to Catra, who was walking alongside him. Being non-magical like him, she found herself much more drawn to his opinions, as opposed to the two princesses walking behind them, debating the merits of magic. After their lessons, Glimmer was attempting to have her side of the discussion entirely through hand signals whereas Adora was trying to vocalise back, attempting to build up her confidence with speaking to more people. 

Bow was listing the different types of arrows he carried and Glimmer’s derisive laugh echoed towards them.

“What possible use would there be for a sonic arrow?” she giggled, still firm in her belief that magic was the best answer to everything. “If we get separated in a crowd?”

“That wouldn’t work for Adora and anyway, wasn’t it you waxing lyrical to your mum about the benefits of good technology?” Bow retorted back and Glimmer flushed.

“I know, I know. Just let me have my moment of sparkles being better than anything else,” she muttered, pouting. Bow smiled, showing that there were no hard feelings and the foursome continued onwards. 

“Adora, as someone on both the magic and non-magic side of the scale, care to weigh in?” Catra asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she held an imaginary recorder to the blonde’s mouth. Adora giggled, leaned forwards and uttered a “no comment” into her hand, choosing to twine her fingers together as they fell to their sides.

As they walked onwards, craggy rocks walling them in on both sides of their serpentine trail, there was a rumble in the distance that reverberated through their bones and up Adora’s spine. A small plume of dust rose to the sky ahead of them and they exchanged dubious glances.

When they approached the site of the impact, they saw that a large boulder was now blocking their path, with no detour available. Not wanting to trigger a secondary rockslide, Glimmer took them in turn and twinkled them beyond the boulder sequentially. They continued onwards, with Adora muttering that she could have destroyed the boulder with She-ra and Bow rationalising that further loud noises probably weren’t a good thing for the canyon. Catra just smirked with a “sure, Princess” as she walked beside the blonde, smiling at her pouting lips.

“But how am I supposed to get the hang of it if I don’t transform?” she grumbled.

“Adora, I’m sure there will be loads of chances for you to transform into your warrior princess and beat something up. But, right now, Adora is better,” Catra said, words ringing with sincerity and truth and lighting a small fire within Adora’s breast. 

When they rounded the bend, the technological castle of Dryl came into view, towering purpled walls reaching high into the sky and a multitude of bridges and arches surrounding it. They noted the maze-like structure of Dryl, labyrinthine in arrangement. They would never be able to navigate it without help; how did the residents of Dryl manage?

At the top of the highest spire, there was a flashing red light, pulsing intermittently as it shone. A little known, and even less used, feature of Dryl’s castle was the distress beacon. Being as isolated as it was from other nations, without access to a runestone, it could be difficult for Dryl to signal that they needed help so they had a distress signal installed. 

Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be anyone around to respond to it. 

“Something’s wrong,” Glimmer muttered, frowning heavily. “The castle’s distress beacon is lit; it must be under attack.”

“But there’s no Horde in the area,” Catra said, remembering the schematics of Dryl’s location and the lack of tactical advantage for Horde attacking. Unless, the attack wasn’t for geographical advantage. Maybe the Horde was attacking to retrieve someone. Or something.

Bow had his tracker pad out, scanning the area as Adora transformed into She-ra. The courtyard didn’t appear to have any people in it, despite it being the middle of the day and the weather was fine. Where was everyone? Approaching the front gates, they were wide open and created an eerie moan as the wind blew through them. Adora shivered in response, feeling that something was off. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but Dryl felt wrong, like a musical note that was out of tune or a colour that was slightly abnormal. 

They wandered through the deserted courtyard, footsteps echoing on the stoned ground and, despite the lack of others, there was a pervading sense that they were being watched. Catra’s fur was standing on end, feeling a gaze on the back of her neck but she couldn’t pinpoint the culprit and it was making her hackles rise. She crowded towards Adora, almost stepping on the blonde’s heels as she held her sword out in front of her. 

“Er, guys,” Adora queried, eyes darting left and right, “anyone else feel that?”

“That feeling that we’re being watched but unable to see anyone? Nope, totally not,” Glimmer grumped.

“My tracker pad isn’t working,” Bow moaned, “which is unusual as, if there is one place it should work, it’d be Entrapta’s castle.”

“Maybe something is interfering with it,” Catra mused, stepping off Adora’s heels to approach Bow and peer at the fritzing pad. She wasn’t the technological marvel that he was, but she could work her way around well enough to troubleshoot on occasion. As she and Bow stood still, trying different things to get his pad working, they heard a scraping noise coming over the stones of the courtyard. Turning, they saw a mechanical arm dragging itself along the ground, the wires coming from the elbow sparking with electricity. Adora took a run up and kicked the arm away from them, back into the shadows it had crawled from. 

More sounds came from the darkness, causing terrifying memories to rise up in Catra and Adora (bad things lurked in the shadows) and a robot breached into the brightness of the courtyard. Its eyes were glowing a venomous red as it came closer, holding a makeshift weapon in its hands and beeping menacingly (worse things that lurked in the shadows had red eyes). 

“It looks like one of Princess Entrapta’s,” Bow said, eyes sparkling with technological jealousy. He took a tentative step forwards, as if to examine it closer but Catra firmly grabbed his arm.

“I don’t think its friendly Bow,” she said. “It’s not coming towards you with a weapon to give you a hug!”

But, as she stepped away from Adora, who was standing next to Glimmer, she heard the creaking groan of an underground mechanism. In the time it took her to look back, she saw the ground disappear from under them.

A brief horrific moment of panic flashed through their eyes and Catra’s hand reached out fruitlessly. Adora felt an uncomfortable weightlessness in her stomach, exchanged a startled look with Catra and she and Glimmer plummeted into the dark expanse that had opened beneath their feet. 

“Adora!” she cried, echoed by Bow’s scream of “Glimmer!” as the two princesses vanished from view. They looked helplessly into each other’s eyes, sharing a moment of despair as the flooring returned back into place, covering the opening they had fallen through. Catra rushed forwards, her claws trying to find a seam that she could wrench open to find Adora (and Glimmer, she supposed). Bow had taken one of his arrows out and fired it at the robot, immobilising it with a rope and turning quickly back to Catra.

She had taken to scratching ineffectively at the ground with her claws, causing minimal damage and no progress. His heart skipped for her; separation from Adora was still a touchy subject.

“Hey, Catra. It’s ok. Entrapta has traps all over her castle but they aren’t inherently dangerous,” he reassured her. Looking back at his pad, he could see that the screen was doing something now, their emergency repairs having fixed it somehow.

“Look,” he said, showing her the pad, “my pad is working again and Adora still has hers so we can track them through the pad. It’ll be ok.” Catra’s breathing started to settle into something a little more normal and her heartbeat lessened in her ears to the extent that she could hear something else in the courtyard.

Footsteps.

Glancing to the doorway to one of the houses, she saw a shadowed figure, appearing as a human shape instead of a robot, but she kept herself in a combat stance just in case. From the shadows, a teal haired man crept out, looking back and forth with nervous eyes. 

“Hell-“ Bow started but was quickly quietened by the man with a shushing noise. 

“Please, keep your voice down! They respond to sound,” he whispered and waved them over to the building he was still partially shaded in. Face to face with him, he seemed to be in a uniform and he was gesturing them into an open trap door. “They’re coming! Follow me!” 

Exchanging a look of trepidation, Catra and Bow followed tentatively. If they could get into the castle, they were one step closer to finding Adora and Glimmer. 

\--

Glimmer and Adora landed inelegantly in a pile on a hard-stone floor in a corridor with a loud thump. Shuffling up onto all fours, Adora shook her head, her hand rising to her forehead as she tried to shake the humming from it. Since she’d entered Dryl, there had been an incessant buzzing in her skull, drilling its way to her brain with relentless throbbing. Something in Dryl was mining her head and driving her mad with its mindlessness. 

A brief moment later, she wondered if the throbbing would follow her if she released her She-ra transformation but she was reluctant to do so in case she couldn’t get her back again. 

“Ugh, where are we?” Glimmer groaned, glancing up and down the monotonous corridor, its sconces filled with fire lit torches and innocuous portraits lining the walls. The flooring, walls and ceiling were all made of the same purple stone, which emphasised the feeling of the corridor stretching in front of them. 

“I don’t know,” Adora said, “but we need to find Catra. She might be in trouble.”

“Adora, relax,” Glimmer said, her hands grasping Adora’s head between them. “We’ll find her, don’t worry. But don’t forget Bow, you know, the person with Catra? We’ll find them both.” She used her hold on Adora to teleport them away but, after appearing in different places, some of them suspended in the air and teetering over dangerous precipices, they determined that they shouldn’t be teleporting any further. 

They wandered through the corridors, the appearance of the walls unchanging and providing no clues for them on their passage. There was an ominous thumping from the darkness in front of them, red eyes staring out at them with drumming intensity and they prepared themselves for a battle. What came out of the shadows was a short woman with incredibly long lilac hair pulled up in two bunches on her head, a welding mask covering her face and dirty overalls covering her body. As she flipped her mask upwards, her garnet eyes sparkled and she smiled at them.

“Princesses! You saw the beacon!” she crooned, throwing her hands in the air and approaching them, but stopping short of actually touching them. “You’ve come to save me!”

“Princess Entrapta?” Glimmer asked, then cleared her throat. “Hello! We’re from Brightmoon. I hope you don’t mind but we let ourselves in.”

“And then let ourselves out of your cage-thing. And then found we couldn’t leave,” Adora muttered behind her and Glimmer sent a sharp elbow into her stomach to shut her up. Entrapta stared at them, mentally logging all their behaviours, before continuing her introduction.

“Welcome to Dryl! Things are usually really fun around here but right now, things are a teensy bit deadly,” she said, her eyes belying her concern over the current situation despite how light-heartedly she phrased it. Her prehensile hair was twisting around itself behind her, like a pair of wringing hands, and it was making Adora’s stomach turn at the juxtaposition between Entrapta’s hair and her face, combined with the boring in her head. 

“You’re lucky I found you,” she said, turning to walk ahead and leaving the other two to scrabble behind her to catch up. She had her own pad in her hand, head down and staring at the screen as they walked. She tilted the screen to them and they could see the bright red cross on the screen instead of any useful information. 

“I designed the castle to be a labyrinth. I’m the only one who can navigate it and I usually have my electronic map to help me but, like my bots, it’s sort of evil right now.”

“Yeah, we noticed that,” Glimmer said.

“So, why did you make killer robots?” Adora said behind them, receiving another elbow to her stomach and a curious look from Entrapta. 

“Oh, hello! Who’re you? You’re very tall,” she said and seemed completely uninterested by Adora’s answer of her name as she noticed her sword. “Oh, hello,” she sang, “I like your sword. It’s First One’s tech, right?”

Before Adora could say anything, Glimmer piped up reminding them about the killer robots.

“They didn’t start out that way,” Entrapta said, sounding bereft at the events happening in her castle, “usually they help with everything around here: cleaning, filing, hygiene and they’re super useful.” She was beginning to get visibly excited, talking about her robots; she was clearly proud of them and their abilities. Unfortunately, as she was waxing about their abilities, she mentioned that they were sound activated and clapped her hands to summon one.

There was a loud rumbling coming down the corridor as the walls and floor shook slightly. This triggered the throbbing in Adora’s head to pound in tandem and made her teeth vibrate agonisingly. She didn’t know why being in Dryl was making her head hurt so much but she was beginning to feel nauseated. Her head was pounding as much as it did when she knocked herself out all those years ago.

Breaching the darkness, a large robot equipped with rotating brushes for floor cleaning approached them, whirring dangerously and knocking the portraits off the walls. Entrapta squealed in glee, entranced by her robot and not noticing of the approaching peril. As it got closer, it released a mechanical roar, making Glimmer and Entrapta cover their ears at the volume, but making Adora collapse to the floor as it reverberated in time with her pounding head. It felt as though her winged tiara was trying to burr its way through her temples.

“Make it stop!”

“Make what stop?” Glimmer asked.

“It’s trying to talk!” Entrapta flapped in the background as Glimmer rested her hands on Adora’s shoulders to try and find out what was happening to her. Adora had dropped her sword and was pulling at the hair on her temples, attempting to lessen the throbbing by opening her head if she had to. When Glimmer turned back to Entrapta, the mechanical prodigy had climbed on top of the robot, standing directly in front of its face. 

“Fascinating! Bot 329 is attempting to communicate!” As she leaned forwards, tendrils of her volumous hair got caught in the robot’s spinning brushes, causing her head to be yanked backwards suddenly and her to fall from where she was standing, dragged into the underbrush by her hair. Screaming at the sudden change and pain, her eyes widened in fear.

“Oh no! Bad robot!” she yelped.

Adora pushed aside the pain in her skull and grabbed her sword from the floor. In a running leap, she landed heavily on the robot, thrusting her sword through one of its eyes and causing it to power down and release Entrapta’s hair. The red vines of programming seemed to diffuse from the robot along the shaft of her blade, reaching the pale blue runestone that sat in its hilt and tainting it crimson. As the stone changed colour, so did Adora’s eyes and the pounding in her head reached phenomenal levels. 

Her mind blanked from the pain and her higher functions stopped. She was hurt and angry and she began to slam her sword into the robot’s hull over and over again; all she knew was she was in pain and there were shadows surrounding her with red eyes staring at her. Pain, shadows and dark red eyes.

Glimmer teleported beside her and managed to get the sword away from her, the anger leaving Adora as swiftly as it came. This left her with nothing but the overwhelming pressure in her head, stinging behind her eyes and blurring of her vision and she collapsed into the smaller princess’ arms, completely unconscious as Adora once more, She-ra gone.

\--

In a dark kitchen, Catra and Bow were crouched next to a gas oven, being frantically hushed by the three people before them. Catra was about the go into a feral fury, claws retracting and extending rhythmically as she snarled. Her eyes were darting back and forth, trying to process everything that had happened. 

Adora was missing. Adora was _missing _. _Adora was missing_. __

_____ _

_____ _

All she could think was that she was gone from her side, vanished away and she didn’t know where she was. Worsening this, they were enrobed in shadows with poisonous red eyes staring at them from every corner. This was her worst nightmare brought to reality and everywhere she looked, she could have sworn she saw shadowy tendrils moving and undulating, she would swear she heard the condescending chuckle of her memories.

As her ears twitched back and forth, she could hear Bow talking to the people in front of them, waving off their attempts to feed them. The woman with sea-foam green hair was attempting to feed him a tiny cupcake (with a pig on top? What was with these people?) and the man with teal hair who had led them here was offering a fizzy pop bottle.

“What’s going on? Why are the robots attacking people?” Bow asked, waving away the offers of refreshments. The timid looking woman with blue hair looked down forlornly.

“We don’t know, we’re only kitchen staff.”

“They respond to noise, so we’ve been hiding down here, keeping quiet. But we have enough food to last for months,” the baker reassured, “the bots will run out of power eventually, right?”

Catra was fed up. She was scared, missing Adora and they just wanted to sit around and wait? Not since Plumeria had she seen such indecision and lassitude. “We need to do something; you can’t hide forever!”

“Oh yes we can! We don’t have powers like the princesses. We can’t fight,” the busgirl wailed.

“So?” Catra roared back, “so what? You think you can only fight if you have magic powers?” She sneered at the thought; she’d spent most of her life training to fight without magic powers and she knew that she didn’t need powers to be powerful. The most powerful thing she’d ever done, had been achieved without magic.

(She’d felt like the most powerful person in the world when Adora looked at her with such trust in her eyes, such belief in her, that she could achieve anything. And she didn’t need magic for that.)

In the background, there was a chirruping noise from Bow’s tracker pad, causing the kitchen staff to jump and shush the device as Bow pulled it from his pocket. Catra slinked forwards and saw a flashing dot on the screen.

“Sir, kindly quiet your,” the man said and paused, “whatever that is.”

“It’s a tracker pad. It’s tracking Adora’s pad so it’ll help us find her and Glimmer,” Bow said and Catra felt a sliver of relief. They could find her; they could get Adora again. But, as she looked at the pad, a myriad of further dots appeared, flashing ominously right outside the kitchen door. 

“I’m guessing those aren’t Adora,” she whispered to him and Bow shook his head heavily. Ok, Catra could do this. Ambush tactics and defence of a room with one entry point; this was Horde curriculum 101. She glanced around, looking at the resources she had and then back to the others. The baker and the man seemed like they could be talked into action but the busgirl looked petrified. 

Right, battle planning. 

“Ok, those are robots outside the door,” she started, looking the kitchen staff directly in the eyes as they quaked before her. Bow was crouched off to her side, staring at her intently. “But we have the advantage in that there is a single entry point.”

“Can’t we just keep the door closed?” the busgirl warbled.

Catra frowned. “Let’s put it this way. I am leaving to find Adora-“ Bow piped up about Glimmer as well and she waved a dismissive hand, “-and I am going out through that door. That will let the robots in and you can either stop the robots or hide in here, but this is happening. Personally, I’ve never let the lack of a magic stone stop me from doing something.”

Bow was staring at her as if she was speaking another language; he’d never seen her take on command before and he thought it was a good look on her, as though she was settling back into a comfortable cloak of authority. 

Between them, they hashed out a rudimentary plan of action and, with a terrified countdown, the teal haired man opened the door. The multitude of robots by the door tumbled in, ill-prepared for the sudden loss of resistance from the opened door and they rushed forwards towards Catra, who was standing before the sink. Crouched behind the counters were Bow and the baker, a rope strung up between them causing the robots to tumble over when they tripped over it. 

Taking the opportunity, Catra slashed her claws through the access ports of the downed robots, like she did in the Horde training simulations, and found that their wiring was just as readily disrupted by her talons. In a matter of moments, they had defeated their opponents and this caused a frisson of excitement to pass through the kitchen staff, leading the busgirl to open the oven door that she was hiding behind. Sharing a triumphant grin, Catra and Bow led the charge out of the kitchen to find their princesses. 

\--

Glimmer couldn’t do this. Why did she think she was ready for this? After she’d wrenched the sword from the death grip of Adora, red veins stretching up her arms and colouring her irises a terrifying crimson, she’d watched in uselessness as Adora’s eyes had spluttered back to their usual blue and rolled backwards in her skull. She rushed forwards to catch her as she collapsed, struggling under the taller one’s weight and teleported them back to the corridor floor.

Laying the blonde on the floor, she couldn’t see any obvious injuries but Adora was completely unconscious, breathing shallowly and her brow furrowed. Glimmer recalled what Adora had been saying since they reached Dryl, hearing something they couldn’t and acting as though her head was hurting. Had something attacked her? Glimmer released Adora’s ponytail, wanting to relieve any pain in her head that she could and, with her hair down and her fringe over her brows, she seemed much younger than she was. 

On top of this, Bow and Catra were missing and she was alone and she couldn’t do this. 

“Adora? You need to wake up!” she pleaded in vain. “Please wake up!”

In the background, Entrapta was speaking into her recorder as she peered on with intrigue. “Fascinating! The tall one seems to be infected by the same virus that has infected my tech. She’s also turned less tall, how does that work?” she finished, looking directly at Glimmer. 

“What do you mean ‘she’s infected too’?”

“Well, I’ve been experimenting with a disc that was discovered in the mines and it held more complete First One’s code than anything I’ve seen before. But it seemed to be infected with a virus that targets First One’s tech, which all my bots are based off of. Is your friend First One’s tech?”

Glimmer was nonplussed; could she not read the room? This really wasn’t the right time for this and she wanted to pull Entrapta’s hair out in anger. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself down. She knew that Entrapta had some difficulties with social niceties and etiquette and it wasn’t her fault that she was missing these subtleties.

“She’s not tech, she’s a person,” Glimmer enunciated, being sure to look directly at Entrapta so that she understood. 

“Well, it must have infected her through the sword then,” Entrapta mused. “Of course, this is speculation in the absence of experimentation and is entirely conjecture.” 

Thinking about what Entrapta said, about a computer disc, Glimmer wondered if everything would revert to normal if the disc was destroyed.

“I suppose. Without the overriding malicious virus, the robots and, by extension, your friend’s sword, would revert back to their normal programming and milieu.” Glimmer deadpanned a heavy look to the mechanical genius, channelling Mermista’s unimpressed face. Entrapta paused and visibly rearranged her thoughts. 

“Yes, I think it would,” she summarised. “But the experiment isn’t over yet.” 

Waving a hand over the decimated remains of the cleaning robot and an unconscious Adora, Glimmer expressionlessly intoned: “I think it’s a failure,” at which Entrapta heavily agreed. 

On the floor, Adora began to stir, her blue eyes fluttering open as she began to raise her head and shoulders off the ground. Glimmer watched on in abject horror as she raised a hand to her forehead and ended up backslapping herself in the face as her co-ordination was so affected. Torn between wanting to laugh with incredulity and cry, Glimmer rushed forwards to support the blonde’s shoulders as her head lolled dangerously with the impact. She’d never seen Adora so poorly co-ordinated and she wondered if it was the result of the First One’s virus. 

“Hi Glimmer!” she cheered loudly, her usually poor volume control completely shattered. Glimmer hushed her hurriedly, her palms open in supplication. 

“How’re you feeling, Adora?” 

“I’m fine!” she yelled. “Where’s Catra? Why are we whispering? Am I whispering right?” 

Glimmer sighed, trying her best to remember the signals Catra taught her the other day. “We’re whispering because of the robots attacking us-“ she lurched forwards to put her hand over Adora’s mouth as she opened her mouth wide, “-they respond to sound, so we have to be quiet.”

“Oh, ok. I’m good at being quiet, aren’t I?” the blonde whispered loudly and Glimmer nodded reassuringly. 

“Of course, you are,” she said, Entrapta creeping forwards in the background, her eyes wide with interest. 

“Hi Entrapta!” Adora yelled loudly, waving with vigour and ended up hitting herself in the face again. She looked down at her hand as though it had caused her offense. “Glimmer, someone keeps hitting me!” Glimmer sighed, already exhausted.

“Hey Adora,” she grasped the blonde’s shoulders hard, “we need you to be quiet now. Ok? We have to go to Entrapta’s lab and destroy a disc-thingy.”

“Did I do something wrong? Is that why I’m not allowed to talk? Is that why Catra’s gone?” her eyes began to water, “I’ve been trying really hard to get better at talking Glimmer! I know I’m no good at it but I’ve been trying!” Glimmer hugged her close, firmly folding herself around Adora’s shoulders in reassurance. Pulling backwards, she made sure Adora was looking directly at her.

“Absolutely not. We’re playing a game and we have to be quiet now,” she said and Adora’s teary eyes dried up immediately. “But, we’re going to win because we have the signals, don’t we? We don’t need to talk.” She tried so sign along with her words, stumbling on a couple of gestures but getting the gist across to Adora, who nodded fervently in agreement. Entrapta was hovering in the background, brows furrowed with confusion.

“What’s going on?” she said, feeling like she was missing something. Entrapta usually had the feeling she was missing something when interacting with humans, it was part of the reason why she preferred robots. There was no confusion there; she didn’t feel like she was missing an important puzzle piece with them. She’d withdrawn from the other princesses years ago when the feeling grew and she could feel the royals looking at her with disdain and exasperation. 

Glimmer muttered to her about Adora’s deafness, whilst supporting her up off the ground on unsteady feet. Adora immediately overbalanced and fell forward, pinwheeling her arms wildly and landing on Glimmer’s shoulders with a huff of air. Entrapta’s eyes widened; here was another princess who had comprehension troubles, like she did, and the other princess was supporting her. Perhaps it was time to start interacting with the other princesses again. 

They trudged through the maze of the castle, seemingly walking in circles as Entrapta led the way towards her laboratory. Adora was being supported on Glimmer’s shoulders, unable to support her own weight and she held one of her hands over her mouth to keep herself silent (she didn’t want to lose the game). By the time they reached the entrance of the laboratory, they were all exhausted and Glimmer slipped Adora off her shoulders to rest her against the wall. Adora’s head flopped to one side, her eyes drooping heavily and listing to the left. 

Entrapta was trying to open the door, tapping furiously on the keypad next to the door. The steel door remained closed, however, regardless of the codes the purple haired princess was typing in. “The door seems to be infected too; it won’t let us in. That’s so fascinating,” she said, and paused as she realised what she said, “and awful.”

“I’ve got this,” offered Glimmer, happy to feel like she was in control again. “I’ll just teleport in.” Entrapta’s eyes sparkled at the information, immediately quizzing Glimmer on how teleportation worked.

“I’ll tell you everything later, ok Entrapta? When we’re not facing a robot uprising.”

“It’s a date!” Entrapta replied giddily, getting her recorder out to start listing her questions as Glimmer disappeared in a flurry of sparkles. Behind the large doors, something crashed loudly, followed by the sounds of laser fire and Glimmer reappeared suddenly, appearing frazzled and dishevelled. 

“Wow, the lab is very full of robots!”

“How did they look? Are they ok?” Entrapta asked.

“Pretty evil, to be honest.”

“But they’re ok?”

Sitting against the wall, Adora was staring off into the darkness at the end of the corridor. Glimmer and Entrapta were talking about the robots in the laboratory but she couldn’t take her eyes away from an especially dark corner. She could have sworn that something moved, but her eyes were doing something funny right now so she couldn’t be sure. She wanted to tell Glimmer about it, but were they still playing the silent game? No one had told her they had stopped. Was she allowed to talk?

Turning back to Glimmer, she tried to signal to her, but again, someone slapped her chest and her arms dropped in surprise. Who was hitting her? Why was she being hit? Was she being bad? She tried to come up with a way to catch Glimmer’s attention but it was so hard to move, her body was full of lead and her head full of cotton. 

After what seemed to be an age, Glimmer looked to her to see Adora staring directly at her. She darted her eyes off to the corner, furiously trying to communicate with the Brightmoon princess and Glimmer followed her gaze. And loosened a loud scream and a pack of robots scrabbled towards them.

‘Guess we’re not playing anymore,’ Adora thought, seeing Glimmer’s mouth fall open suddenly. She dragged her gaze back to the cloud of mechanical aggressors coming towards them, unable to so much as raise her head as she lacked the strength. Glimmer flitted towards her and tried to lever her up, Entrapta on her other side. A distant part of Adora’s mind desperately wanted to help, wanted to be useful but she couldn’t muster the energy.

The three of them ended up crowded next to the door, Glimmer braced herself at the front with her hands glowing purple as Entrapta tried to support Adora’s full weight. They were quickly surrounded by the robots, brandishing their makeshift weapons fiercely and preparing to attack. 

But then, a commotion rose from the back of the circle of robots, dust and debris rising through the air as a cacophony of noise began. It seemed that someone was trying to battle their way towards them, going through the throng of robots with extreme aggression. As the first line of robots was breached, the princesses could see Catra and Bow fighting, alongside three other people, taking down the robots with efficiency and cutlery?

Well, Glimmer had seen stranger things. 

By the time all the robots were on the floor, and Bow had exalted his greetings to Entrapta (“Big, big fan!!!”), they were planning their assault on the laboratory. Bow had explained that Catra had come up with their initial plan, but looking back at the Horde girls, Glimmer and Bow decided they could come up with their strategy without them.

Having come into arms reach of each other, Catra had scooped Adora up into a furious embrace, with Adora returning it as much as her deadened limbs could manage. Entrapta had wandered over, intrigued by Catra’s ears and tail and explained what had happened. A fond look passed over Catra’s face at Adora’s uncoordinated behaviour as she gathered the blonde’s arms to her chest to stop her from hurting herself. 

“Alright, idiot princess. Let’s stop you from injuring yourself further,” she muttered, scooping the blonde up easily (‘how did she carry Adora so easily when she was about two inches shorter?’ Glimmer wondered, feeling miffed at her own strength and vowing to get lessons) and carrying her bridal style over to the kitchen staff, firmly instructing them to not let the blonde out of their sight. 

It was almost anticlimactic when they breached the laboratory doors, Glimmer teleporting Bow, Catra and Entrapta in and leaving the others outside in safety. Once they were inside, Catra and Glimmer distracted the robots, dancing around them with vicious efficiency and Bow and Entrapta targeted the mainframe computer. 

The infected data chip was fused with the computer solidly and they were unable to separate it from the hardware. Bow reached behind him and pulled forth his sonic arrow, firing it into the chip. It caused no damage to the crystal itself but released a loud, high pitched screech that attracted the attention of all the surrounding robots who began to violently attack the interface.

A few blows from the robots and the computer and crystal shattered to pieces, it’s red influence fading from the surrounding wiring and the functional robots. Their mechanical eyes changed back to blue as their previous programming resurfaced and they set down their weapons. 

Catra, Bow and Glimmer shared a quick hug as Entrapta approached them. They were finally able to discuss Entrapta joining the Princess Alliance, which she was keen to do, and left the laboratory. In the corridor, Adora was sitting up, her head cupped in her hands. Catra walked forwards and was met by blue eyes looking up.

“C’tra?” Adora murmured and Catra pulled her to her feet. The blonde swayed slightly but kept her balance and the kitchen staff exchanged a cheer of success.

As they left Dryl, mission successful and a princess recruited for the Rebellion, they failed to notice Entrapta return to her laboratory, gathering up the shattered crystal pieces.

Her experiment had failed but, one of the caveats of scientific experiment was repetition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to get this up before changeover. 
> 
> Let me know what you think  
> BYB x


	7. In the Shadows of Mystacor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’d been imprisoned in her own body by the virus, unable to even stand. Adora was used to her body being a prison; she was silently jailed within it every day but this physical uselessness was new and she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am, as always, completely blown away by your support. Thank you 
> 
> I will say that I delve into a lot of psyches in this one, so buckle up!

Scorpia crept closer to the Black Garnet chamber, her footsteps soundless on the metal flooring. Belying her form, she slunk around the corners of the corridors, keeping her stinger close to her but clicking her pincers in anxiety. She’d been summoned by Shadow Weaver and she wasn’t sure why; the last time she’d seen the sorceress was just before her mission to Salineas.

Every time she entered the room containing her family’s runestone, she felt an electric charge over her exoskeleton, like a pet vying for her attention. She’d never had a connection to the Black Garnet, the magical bond being lost after her grandfather welcomed Hordak to their home and Shadow Weaver had started her casting with it. She recalled when the sorceress had first arrived and started interacting with the Black Garnet; she didn’t know how Shadow Weaver had wrested control of the magical stone. She remembered the uncomfortable itching up her pincers and down her carapace, feeling as though something was calling to her in pain but she couldn’t quite pinpoint it. When she’d gone to her mothers, they had looked similarly twitchy but told her not to worry about it. 

Even now, she felt a shadow of that itch whenever she was near the runestone, but she’d learned to clamp down on the sensation. 

Tentatively, she crept into the room, studiously avoiding looking at the runestone cowering in the corner, connected to unnatural pipes and cables to monitors and screens. She remembered stories of runestones being used by princesses, their connections ephemeral and mystical and felt a building sense of disappointment. When she had been around the other princesses growing up -she’d visited their nations on rare occasions- their runestones were mounted in places of honour and unfettered by the bondage her family’s endured. 

She had thought it was yet another way that they were different. Scorpioni weren’t built like normal princesses, dainty and fair. They weren’t leaders like normal princesses, they were loyal but they didn’t command respect or attention like others did. And Scorpioni didn’t have a runestone like normal princesses, polished and beautiful, connected to the princess through a metaphysical bond.

She’d learned growing up that, for all the diversity present on Etheria, difference wasn’t welcome, especially in the elite and princess circles. She’d been to one Princess Prom when she was a tiny scorpion, her mothers’ dressed finely and resplendent over her shoulders as she walked towards the host in her frilly pink dress. She’d spent hours picking out her dress, making sure it draped perfectly over her exoskeleton and she felt really pretty wearing it. But, as they rose the stairs to the host, she could see the eyes of the other guests heavy on them, disapproval heavy in them as a race of whispers danced through the ballroom. She didn’t understand it, they hadn’t done anything to warrant this reaction. 

Growing up, Scorpia had learned that being different wasn’t a good thing. She’d learned that they were not welcome in the traditional sense. They were tolerated as a sovereign nation, but not wanted; the nation that people invited _because they had to_. It was one of the reasons why Hordak was welcomed so readily by her family; he treated them the same as everyone else. But, by the time they realised that Hordak’s ideals perhaps didn’t align fully with theirs, he was entrenched in their home. It went against every loyal bone in their bodies to turn their back to him now, especially as they knew intimately how it felt to be turned away from. 

So, even though it made her teeth itch and her exoskeleton crawl at the sight, she tolerated her family’s runestone (her runestone) being used by another. In the depths of the darkened chamber, Shadow Weaver stood next to her mirror, her mask tilted down towards the glassy surface as she swirled an uncaring finger through the water. Behind her, the shadows seemed to pulsate with energy, flexing ominously in their corners and Scorpia blinked her dark eyes as she stared at them. She wasn’t imagining it, the shadows were actually moving, breathing in synchrony. They crawled along the metal floor making her shuffle backwards quickly to avoid getting her foot caught by them, and coalesced into one, shadows dripping from its edges and venom leaking from its form.

It loomed behind the sorceress, fusing with her shadow and becoming one with her floating hair and Scorpia felt a whisper of fear down her stinger. What was she doing?

Although she hadn’t turned around, nor made any attempt to acknowledge her, Shadow Weaver waved Scorpia forwards to approach her mirror and her shadow simulacrum. Clicking her pincers nervously, she crept forwards and stood closer, spotting a forest scene displayed in the mirror.

“Force Captain Scorpia, how good of you to join me,” Shadow Weaver said. Her Voice had this uncanny ability to sound honeyed and bitter simultaneously and it made Scorpia grossly uneasy. 

“You wanted to see me?” she asked, darkly stained lips trembling slightly. 

“Yes. I have found Adora and her sword in the forest. I have reason to believe I know where she is headed.”

“Oh, ok! Do you want me to go get her?” Scorpia could do that! She knew how to conduct a retrieval mission after all. Maybe she could get the same cadets that helped her on the Salineas mission. Shadow Weaver scoffed at her suggestion.

“After your last attempt? No. The only place you’re headed is outside my door to stand guard. I’ll bring Adora back myself, you will see to it that I’m not disturbed!”

Slightly put out at the dismissal, Scorpia shifted herself to the door, standing just beyond the threshold and stared back inside. The Black Garnet seemed to stare back at her, a chastened pet looking to its owner and she watched in helpless agony as it seemed to call for her. The shadowed form behind Shadow Weaver expanded with power and then seemed to burst into a myriad of smaller shadow beasts, chasing one another into the cracks of the room as a ghastly wail echoed in the chamber. 

And the door slammed shut with a loud, deafening bang.

\--  
Entrapta had waved them on from Dryl with a smile on her face and a frenetic flap of her hand. Adora couldn’t be certain why she’d agreed to be a part of the alliance, but the purple haired princess had been looking at her strangely before they left. Glimmer had said that Entrapta struggled with some of the subtleties of society and maybe that was why.

Bow had said that maybe they were more similar than they looked. Adora had never had someone like that before; no one else was deaf in the Horde and there was no one she could say was similar to her. Catra loved her, her teammates tolerated her and everyone else disliked her but no one was like her. How was Entrapta like her? From what Adora had seen, she could hear perfectly well and acted with a surety of self that she could only hope to emulate but perhaps there was something hidden about her. Something less obvious. 

One thing about being deaf was that it readily became clear that she had some kind of impairment and that accommodations were made for her quicker because of this and with more understanding. Was that what affected Entrapta? Something like Adora, but less visible?

And, had anyone ever made adaptions for her before? Had she ever had a Catra growing up? Or a Bow and a Glimmer to help her in the present? Adora didn’t think she would have survived if she hadn’t had Catra and the recent additions of Bow and Glimmer were invaluable. Had anyone supported Entrapta?

Mulling over this as they walked back to Brightmoon, the trio alongside her seemed unaffected by the same thoughts. They seemed to be riding a high after the last battle with the robots and Catra’s bright eyes were sparkling with excitement as she regaled the story again. Adora tried to be happy and supportive but there was a growing sense of jealousy and resentment in her breast. 

She’d been useless in the last battle, sequestered to the corner as the others fought the robots. She’d been imprisoned in her own body by the virus, unable to even stand. Adora was used to her body being a prison; she was silently jailed within it every day but this physical uselessness was new and she wasn’t sure she could handle it. 

Physical competence was never an issue with her. She trained, got stronger and improved. It was a simple equation in her head and she liked physical activity, it being the only thing that calmed her racing thoughts on occasions like this. But to not be able to move properly, to be imprisoned by her own skeleton and be trapped with her thoughts and have no escape: it was torture. 

She didn’t know that She-ra could be affected by anything like that. What if it happened again? What if she was still affected when she transformed again? She had just found a release in the warrior princess, an escape from her daily prison, and she couldn’t lose it so soon. 

What if something happened to Catra whilst she was sitting fallow in the corner? She’d never forgive herself. 

She walked forwards with these dark thoughts buzzing through her head, her hand held in Catra’s grasp. After everything that had happened with the robots and their separation and the _shadows_ , she had been reluctant to part with her since they left Dryl and Catra had allowed it. Their hands had been entwined for the duration of the hike so far, palms sweaty against each other and making the rocky descent cumbersome but neither one letting go. 

They were making good progress, passing through the mountains and rocky paths quickly and reached the edge of the Whispering Woods just as night was falling. They chose to set up camp inside the border of the woods, bedding down to resume their travels in the morning. Bow, Glimmer and Catra were quick to fall asleep, the events of the day catching up to them and sending them into a deep slumber but Adora was too wired from her thoughts to sleep. 

Although her eyes felt itchy and deadened, she couldn’t let herself drift off. Her thoughts kept swirling back to the living shadows and dark red eyes and her heart began to pound painfully in her chest, the images stirring up uncomfortable memories. She sat upright off the forest floor and looked down at Catra, curled up beside her. Bow and Glimmer were on the other side of Catra, Bow sprawled out with his mouth open wide, deep chest movements reminding her of Kyle and memories of him snoring; Glimmer was tucked into a small ball, her cloak over her head and seeming to make herself even smaller. 

A fond smile spread over her lips at the sight of her friends so content and she was about to lay back once more when something caught the corner of her eye. A small movement in the darkness just beyond her sight made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She was momentarily convinced she was dreaming, brought a hand to her blue eyes to rub them in frustration and looked again.

Nothing. 

There was nothing there, she was sure of it. She must be imagining things, possibly out of tiredness and the fact that she was still seeing the shadows move must be because of that. They couldn’t possibly be actually moving because that would mean that Shadow Weaver was controlling them and she couldn’t be there. It was just the events of the day. Right?

If it were Shadow Weaver, surely there would have been some noise to herald her arrival. Catra’s ears didn’t so much as twitch, so Adora was sure there were no noises to be heard but Catra was asleep. What if the feline didn’t hear anything because she was so deeply sleeping? 

Adora didn’t have the option to hear any noises, she could only keep an eye on the shadows. If she looked away, if she closed her eyes, even for an instant, she could miss something and that could lead to an attack. She would have to keep watch all night to make sure nothing snuck up on them.

It was ok, she could do this. Night watches weren’t uncommon in the Horde and she’d received training for them, like all other cadets. The fact that her eyes were itching and her head was still pounding from Dryl was beside the point; the others needed someone to keep a lookout and she could do it. 

(She hadn’t done anything else for them after all, being completely useless in Dryl. The least she could do was watch over them sleep to make sure they rested well.)

As she kept a close eye on the shadows that danced at the edge of the camp, hiding thinly through the benign façade of the trees, she could feel eyes watching her, like Shadow Weaver’s did back in the Horde. Penetrating and perverse, the gaze lingered on her soul and made her feel unclean. She looked around to try to pinpoint the gaze but every time she looked to a different spot in the leaves, something would move slightly, dragging her eyes away and keeping them roving incessantly over the foliage. 

She felt like an animal, trapped under the unwavering gaze of a predator, just waiting for the killing strike. 

When dawn broke that morning, Adora had moved from her seat next to Catra to standing propped up against one of the trees for support. Her head heavy and her gaze unfocussed, she had watched the trees all night with frightening intensity, waiting for disaster to strike. But, like all cataclysmic events, the wait was the most torturous and the finale hadn’t happened so far. 

She was so unfocussed that she jumped a foot into the air when a hand landed on her shoulder, her head whipping around and causing Catra to have a mouthful of blonde hair as her ponytail hit her in the face. Glimmer, who was on her other side and whose hand was responsible, jerked back as though she’d been burned, a concerned look in her eyes. Turning around fully to see the girls, Adora noted that Bow was star fished on the ground, limbs askew and mouth gaping wide in sleep. 

“Sorry, it must be too early to teleport. I’m sorry for surprising you,” Glimmer said, her hands following her words with some stumbling. Catra had a blinding smile on her face at the effort and Adora tried to mimic it but it came out looking like a grimace. Unwillingly, her eyes dragged back to the wall of trees, trying to find the shadow that had been dancing in her view all night. 

“What’re we looking at?” Catra asked, gently turning Adora’s head to face her as she asked. She began to pull her hand back but saw the look of terror in the blue eyes and kept her hand cradled around the back of Adora’s neck in reassurance, her clawed thumb tracing her scar gently. 

“I don’t know. I saw something in the shadows last night.”

“What, like a bunny?” Glimmer joked.

“No, something in the _shadows_ ,” she stressed, her eyes imploring Catra to understand. Shadows were never just shadows, there was always something in them hidden by their cloaking darkness. Her eyes pleaded with Catra as her back was ramrod straight, a painful dichotomy of subservience and defiance.

“Hey, it’s ok,” Catra said, stroking her neck carefully. Glimmer looked more closely at Adora, taking in the wild darting of her eyes, the deep purple rings beneath them and the frenetic shaking of her limbs. 

“Did you get any sleep at all?” she asked and Adora shook her head.

“Someone had to stand guard against the shadows.”

Glimmer sighed in incredulity but then stopped herself. She didn’t know what had happened in Adora’s life to make her so wary of shadows. If the way Catra was responding, there was something behind her behaviour, not simply a reaction to what happened in Dryl. Out loud, she reassured Adora, forming a plan of action whilst waking Bow up and getting him ambulatory. He spluttered a few token complaints but stood beside her, yawning into one hand.

“Ok, I know you’re on edge because of what happened with Entrapta’s robots but everything’s ok now. You need to relax and have a vacation, which is why we’re going to Mystacor.” As Bow explained Mystacor to an exhausted Adora, Glimmer gently pulled Catra off to the side. 

“What’s really going on?” she asked and Catra seemed to wilt under her gaze. 

“Growing up, we were under the care of a sorcerer called Shadow Weaver and she used to lurk in the shadows to catch us doing something wrong. She could use the shadows to attack us at any time and, when that wasn’t enough, she’d use red electricity to hurt us. She didn’t hurt Adora often but she used to take Adora away for private sessions for training and to try and fix her hearing. She’d always come out of the shadows like they had breathed her to life.

“Adora doesn’t remember the sessions. I think Shadow Weaver messes with her memories, but she remembers the emotions and being afraid of the shadows.” Catra looked at Adora and Bow with a sadness in her eyes that seemed to weigh her down, the tips of her ears and her tail drooping in agreement. 

“And what happened in Dryl built on that,” Glimmer nodded with understanding, appreciating the very real reason behind Adora’s fear. She wasn’t just jumping at imagined shadows; she was afraid of what they represented. Glimmer faced Catra fully, her hands on the feline’s shoulders in solidarity.

“I think Mystacor would be a good thing. Not just to get away but my aunt, Castaspella, is the head sorceress there. Perhaps she could help Adora realise that not all sorcerers are bad?” Privately, Glimmer thought that would be a lesson Catra could learn as well but kept that opinion silent.

Catra’s eyes widened at the possibility and nodded in agreement. Part of her was eager for Adora to finally get some help processing what had been done to her, and maybe she would start to see magic in a more positive light. She-ra was a part of her and she was, undoubtedly, magic. Some of the Horde’s teaching and Adora’s own dislike for magic must be tainting her views of She-ra, and of herself. Shadow Weaver had poisoned their views on magic, seeping as blackly as her shadows into their opinions and turning any childlike wonder into cautious distrust. Catra was sure that some of Adora’s self-worth issues came from the fact that she was now magic and perhaps the only way to address this was to regain a love for magic itself. 

Spurred on by Glimmer’s understanding, Catra added her support to Bow’s exaltation of Mystacor. Bow had been explaining to Adora all Mystacor had to offer and caught Catra’s attention when he mentioned about the cloud beaches. 

“You’ll love it Adora,” he continued, eyes sparkling with support, “plus, Mystacor is covered by an invisibility spell, so evil things can’t find it. You won’t have to worry about the shadows in the woods and you can just relax.” Perhaps reassuring Adora of the physical barrier around Mystacor would help calm her and he could see her eyes become less frantic at the mention. 

Whilst Bow had been explaining Mystacor to Adora, he had overheard the girls’ conversation with half an ear and his heart clenched painfully at what the two Horde cadets had experienced. Adora gained a little sparkle in her eyes, glittering mischievously as she said she had never relaxed in her life, Catra nodding the affirmative in the background. 

Challenge accepted. 

\--

Looking down at the sheer drop following their climb to the top of the mountainous precipice, Catra was beginning to have second thoughts about their trip to Mystacor. They had breached the cloud line earlier and the fluffy white clouds were obscuring their view of the earth below. She exchanged a nervous glance with Adora, who seemed as worried as she was, purple bruises stark under her eyes with the paleness of her skin. Her skin seemed even paler than usual in the direct bright sunlight and under the light reflected off the sword strapped to her back. 

She had never seen Adora look so worn and tired, even on her lowest days. 

Bow and Glimmer let out loud cheers as they ran to the edge of the cliff, jumping off in a wide arc. There was no chance to stop them, both the Horde girls arms held out futilely as the Rebellion members voluntarily flung themselves to their deaths. After they slipped through the cloud layer like diving into a pool of water, Catra heard them call back up and encourage them to make the same leap. Adora had moved her hand from a futile stretch to gripping Catra’s deathly tight and she knew that there was no way she was going to encourage Adora to make that jump. Adora couldn’t hear that her new friends were ok, all she knew was that they jumped and now they were gone. 

“Guys, you need to jump!” came the disembodied voice of Glimmer through the clouds. Catra relayed this to Adora, who furiously shook her head. 

“I’m not jumping off a cliff, Catra! Have you lost your mind?”

“Adora,” she said, firmly looking into the blonde’s tired eyes, “I need you to trust me.”

“I do trust you Catra,” she responded back but couldn’t say anything else as the feline ran at the edge as well, pulling Adora behind her by their joined hands. 

“Catra!” she screamed, her voice shrill and scared making Catra wince, but it was too late. They crested the edge of the mountain and Catra leapt with all the power in her strong legs, towing Adora behind her. Adora’s weight and non-compliance meant that she didn’t get as much height to her jump as she would have normally, but it was still enough to clear the edge of the mountain and send them plummeting into the clouds. 

Adora was screaming behind her, tears streaming from her eyes but remained holding Catra’s hand as they emerged through the clouds to see a floating rock ascending towards them. Landing heavily, they rolled along the flat surface in a tumbling pile, the air driven from their lungs. Sitting up quickly, Adora made a noise of disagreement at Catra and turned away from her to curl up with her head and arms on her knees facing away. Catra knew this was the biggest show of displeasure Adora could make, making it so that Catra had no way of communicating with her, and she felt a pang of guilt. 

As the mountain was rising through the clouds, Catra crept closer to Adora, scooting up next to her until their arms were touching. Bow and Glimmer were cheering about riding the rock through the clouds but she was more focussed on Adora. The blonde had her forehead resting on her knees as her arms were curled around them. Catra tentatively moved one of her hands away, grasping it timidly in hers. 

Adora’s pulse was running blindingly fast and her hand hung limply in Catra’s grasp. She knew, logically, that they had to jump right then to get onto their transport, but it must have scared Adora greatly and Adora didn’t react well to being scared. Neither did she, but that wasn’t in question today. Adora must hate her for doing it, feeling the loss of control on top of being afraid, and she began to pull her hand back but was stopped by Adora giving her hand a slight squeeze. 

Looking down at the specks of towns beneath them, she tried to think of how to make it up to Adora when a flash of darkness caught the corner of her eye. There was a dark patina stretching over the rocks of a nearby mountain that looked out of place but, when she tried to get a closer look, it was gone. Must have been a trick of the light. 

With a small crash, the rock they were riding collided with another, larger floating rock. This was more akin to a floating mountain, as it had structures built over it, crowds of sorcerers practicing their spells and even indigenous flora and fauna. They stepped onto the grassy ground and Adora’s eyes went wide as she saw the apprentices practicing off to one side. The only magic she’d ever seen had been princess magic, which was elementally attuned, and Shadow Weaver casting. Although Shadow Weaver’s magic held similarities to what the magicians here were doing, it was like comparing two different pieces of cloth: both were fabric but one was silk whereas the other was hessian. 

With eyes wide and mouth agog, she and Catra took in the actions of the sorcerers, their flowing arm movements and the magic circles that appeared in front of them. The magic being practiced here seemed kind and good, very different from what they had seen growing up. 

Approaching them on swift feet was a tall, beautiful woman with dark eyes and darkly stained lips, garbed in a ceremonial purple robe and headdress. This must be “Aunt Castaspella”, the person in charge here, and she greeted Glimmer with a sharp hug. 

“I thought I heard my Glimmer!” she cheered, snuggling close to Glimmer, who struggled briefly and then twinkled out of her embrace in a shower of sparkles. 

“Hi, aunt Casta.”

“It’s been so long since you came to visit,” Castaspella mock pouted, her lips frowning deeply but unable to hide the mischief in her eyes. She couldn’t maintain it for long when she saw Bow and geared herself up for another hug, this one furiously returned by the tall male. After they had released each other, she seemed to notice the two new people standing awkwardly behind them, one still gazing intently at the apprentices, the other staring at her with fiercely protective heterochromic eyes. 

“And who’re they?”

“Aunt Casta, this is Catra,” Glimmer gestured to the feline, who gave a cheeky wave back and a smirk, “and Adora. She sometimes turns into She-ra, don’t freak out when it happens.”

Castaspella’s eyes widened at that: She-ra, the mythical warrior princess who would balance all Etheria with her magic was standing before her. Currently, she seemed tired and wan, her blonde hair coming out of her ponytail and she hadn’t reacted to Glimmer’s introduction. The way her eyes were focussed on the magic being performed, she thought that maybe she hadn’t heard the introduction but, perhaps something else was going on?

“Catra, Adora, how nice,” she said, sending a small wave of magic out. It crashed into one of the apprentice’s spells (sorry Cexyll) and resulted in a loud pop, drawing the attention of everyone in front of her bar one. Adora had continued to gaze at a different apprentice, looking up only when he had stopped casting due to the noise. She had her answer, right there. 

“I’m glad Glimmer has started making some new friends,” she continued, as though there hadn’t been any interruption at all but drew her index and middle fingers in a large circle in front of her. Purple light filled the casting circle and she released the spell in a shower of sparkles. Nothing overt happened but she knew it had worked when she saw Adora’s eyes flit to her and Catra’s mouth drop open. 

“We were all so pleased when she started bringing Bow around. I was sure she had made him up at first,” she laughed at the memory and the words appeared above her head as she spoke, disappearing as soon as they were read. 

Without needing to be told, Castaspella had determined Adora’s limitations and immediately accommodated her. What was most impressive was that she changed so little; accommodating Adora didn’t necessarily mean that someone had to change everything. Just a little change meant she could be part of the conversation but it had been done without drawing excessive attention or performing extravagant feats. It was the little acts, like Bow’s pad, that empowered Adora but acts like this one made Adora feel a part of the group.

Adora and Catra had never seen magic used for this purpose before. The only magic they knew that was not the elemental magic of the princesses was lightning and pain. Bow and Entrapta’s skill with technology seemed to them like magic at times but, to see magic used for something so amazing was, well, magical. 

Castaspella had gone on to ask Glimmer about her haircut, not changing her topics of conversation or her mannerism at all for Adora and it meant the world to them. Adora wanted accommodation, not change, from the people around her and Castaspella had immediately understood that.

“I can see that you’re not wearing the sweater I knitted for you. Don’t you like it?”

“Sure, it’s great,” Glimmer said with a strained smile, “but it’s a little warm for sweaters right now.” Bow proudly rolled up the legs on his trousers, revealing his garish socks. 

“I’m wearing your socks!”

“Well, I’ve always been fond of this one! Girls, do you want me to knit you something?” she asked the two lingering on the fringes of the conversation and they looked agog. “I’ll knit you something.”

“Aunt Casta, we were wondering if-“ Glimmer was cut off by Castaspella.

“Oh, you must be starving! I’m sure your mother isn’t feeding you properly, but what would I know compared to an immortal angelic being? I’ll have a feast prepared. Oh, and you must come to the eclipse tonight! There’s going to be a ceremony in the Lunarium and it’d be so fun for you all to come!”

“Wait, so you just met us, made accommodation for Adora straight away, promised to give us clothes and food and want us to attend some fancy party?” Catra summed up with her eyebrow raised. She turned to Glimmer, who was despairing off to one side. “I want one. Where do we get an “aunt”? Can we have yours?”

Bow lost himself to the splutters of laughter he’d been trying to hold back as Castaspella’s cheeks flushed gently, her eyes softening. Glimmer began to explain to the pair what an aunt was and their faces fell at the thought that they couldn’t get one.

“Of course, I’ll be your aunt girls! Call me “Aunt Casta” like Glimmer does, if you want,” she said, touched at the hungry looks on the girls faces, not just for food. These girls were clearly hungry for knowledge, for attention, for love and, luckily for them, she had more than enough to go around. 

They entered into the Lunarium and were welcomed by the cool shade and slight breeze. Arranged along the walls were highly polished mirrors, each one pointing to a font in the centre of the domed room. The font was filled with clear water, serenely still and reflecting the open ceiling back upwards, a clear view of Etheria’s moons seen. Underneath the mirrors were crystals tablets lining the walls, covered in First One’s writing, depicting the history of magic. 

As Catra wandered around the cathedral-like structure, head tilted up and staring at the lilac skies through the open roof, Adora approached the crystals on the wall. They looked ancient and some were cracked and scuffed in places. The First One’s writing on them was illegible in places, letters missing in crumbled corners but it seemed to be mentioning about the Heart of Etheria. Castaspella approached her, standing reassuringly to her left with her translation spell still activated. 

“Can you read these?” she asked curiously, her dark eyes intrigued. Adora nodded and asked about the Heart in reply.

“It’s said to be a mystical source of power that would allow a caster to complete phenomenal feats but no one knows how to access it. Legend says that She-ra can activate it but there aren’t any records about how.” Castaspella explained, her hands waving as she spoke. Adora stared in shock at the knowledge and Castaspella seemed to pick up on this. She leaned closer to Adora; her head bowed as her dark eyes softened. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know anything about She-ra or how to do this!” she moaned and Catra’s head tilted over to them at Adora’s shout. She was about to approach the pair but Castaspella waved at her to stop. Taking Adora’s shoulders in a gentle side embrace, she stroked her hair carefully, watching as her blue eyes widened and then drooped in tiredness. There was something maternal in Castaspella’s embrace as she silently supported her like Angella did back in Brightmoon, helping Adora by just being there for her. 

“You’ll get there, Adora,” she said radiating confidence to the girl. “Things probably seem impossible right now but I promise you, with some rest and some practice, you’ll become an amazing She-ra.”

Pausing for a moment to let her words sink in, Castaspella loosed a dark smile. “Now, let’s get part one underway. Let’s get you some rest!” With a cheer, Bow and Glimmer ran out of the room into a brightly lit corridor and Catra moved to follow them, pausing briefly to extend her hand back to Adora in offering. Adora took it with a smile, getting a loving squeeze in response and they followed the other two, Castaspella walking alongside them.

They walked through a white corridor built of marble with high ceilings and statues built into recessed alcoves. Glimmer stopped briefly before the statue of a man who looked similar to the mural in Brightmoon, her eyes sparkling with sadness. Castaspella’s eyes became heavy with grief as well, her shattered gaze tearing at the sight of the man. Adora said to Catra that this was Glimmer’s dad and Bow added that he was Castaspella’s brother, reiterating what they had learned before about families. 

They continued on, Castaspella remembering her time at Mystacor training with Micah as she spoke of happier times to the foursome when Catra and Adora stopped abruptly, feeling a familiar churning stare on their shoulders. Their hackles rose and Catra’s shoulders hunched deeply as Adora became ramrod straight, feeling Shadow Weaver’s stare weighing on them heavily like a death shroud. Peering back, they saw a statue, not of alabaster marble as all the others. It seemed tainted with an innate darkness, shades accentuating the piercing nature of her eyes and her lower face hidden behind a granite covering. Catra was sure she knew who the woman was, like a half-forgotten tune or song, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. 

Adora was sure she just saw some of those shadows move. She rubbed her eyes again, half expecting the shadows to have leapt back into place, immobile and fixed, but they remained dancing before her eyes. She squeezed Catra’s hand harder, transfixed in terror at the sight of the moving shadows, but Catra turned to her with concern.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. She mustn’t have seen the shadows moving but she was looking right at the statue with Adora. She couldn’t have missed it. Adora opened her mouth to tell her about the shades but paused. What if she had just imagined it? It would make Catra worry more if she said something. She was still seeing things, on top of her anxiety spiralling out of control.

“Ah, Light Spinner,” Castaspella said, reaching where they had stopped and staring at the statue with contempt. “A scar on Mystacor’s past. She sought power and control above all else, even using Micah to get it. She was cast out many years ago, don’t worry girls.”

Adora was so sure she had seen something but she was beginning to doubt herself. Was she just being twitchy after everything that had happened? Surely, even if there were shadows following her, they couldn’t be on Mystacor, it was protected. She shook her head with defeat and tried to smile at Catra with reassurance as they made their way to the beach to relax. 

As they arrived on the beach, Adora could see why people would come here to recuperate: the lavender clouds were softly lapping at the sand, a gentle breeze drifting through the plants. They laid out blankets to recline on and Adora found herself staring at the sky, watching the drifting clouds with restless energy. Although she was tired, and she was so tired, her brain was wired, refusing to stop thinking about the shadows she’d seen before. Turning her head from the sky in frustration, she looked across to the other three to see that Bow and Catra were sound asleep and Glimmer was watching her closely.

“I’m sorry Glimmer, I don’t think this is working for me,” she said, admitting defeat and sitting up off her blanket. Catra’s ear twitched slightly in response to her movement, but she stayed sound asleep. She must have been more stressed about Adora than she was letting on and the blonde felt the guilt build at that thought. She wanted to leave the two sleeping but Glimmer had no such qualms. 

“Alright then. Bow, Catra, wake up!” she commanded and Bow shot bolt upright, muttering “Whazzat?” around a mouthful of drool. Catra blinked one eye open and narrowed it threateningly at Glimmer, who deadpanned back. “Clearly, to help Adora-“ she stressed, knowing that was the only way she would get Catra to mobilise, “-we need to take this relaxation thing to the next level. To the steam grotto!” 

They piled off the beach and into the maze of caves, purple minerals forming smooth paths and a collection of baths filled with steaming hot water. They water was full of minerals and salts to promote healing and were sure to help Adora relax. Catra firmly declined, citing that she’d been waterboarded once this year already (her words again) but stayed sat on the wall of the pool, Adora’s blonde head firmly in her sights. 

The other three slipped into the hot water, allowing the heat to permeate their muscles and Adora would admit that she felt rejuvenated as the warmth unknitted her tightly wound limbs and the steam obscured her sight, allowing her mind to drift. Just as her tired eyes were drifting shut, she saw a flash of movement again, a shadow flitting on the water’s edge. She jerked upright, causing a splash and held herself in a loose stance, throwing a punch in the direction of the darkness. The steam parted in the wake of her forward rush and she briefly saw Catra’s surprised face as her fist came crashing into her cheek.

Catra flew backwards from the punch, landing heavily on the floor in a loud thump, causing Glimmer and Bow to rush towards her. Adora, realising what she had done and who she had attacked, gasped in horror, her eyes filling with tears as she rushed out of the poolroom, grabbing her sword and ran away with no destination in sight. 

She could hear an echoing laugh in her mind, followed by accusations of her being crazy in Bow and Glimmer’s voices. Worst of all, she heard Catra, her rolling tones venomous as she said she didn’t love her. She ran from those voices but, no matter how good her running was, she couldn’t run from what was in her own mind. As she reached the Lunarium, she ran to the centre of the room, wanting to be bathed in light as she was still seeing the shadows leaping at her from every corner.

From her vantage in the middle of the room, she could see the crystal-clear water in the font turning a murky black and blackened hands begin to rise from the centre, twisted shadowed creatures crawling from the water and overflowing into the room. Backing up quickly, she scrabbled away until her spine slammed into something unyielding. 

Looking upwards through her fringe, she tilted her head back and screamed as she saw she’d collided with Shadow Weaver, gazing down on her disapprovingly. Her hand extended down, long cold fingers coming in contact with Adora’s cheek and she blacked out in panic. When she became aware of herself again, she saw that she was standing in the Lunarium with her sword outstretched and that the crystals holding the First One’s writings were shattered in pieces on the ground. She was panting heavily, her tired eyes flitting back and forth. Where had Shadow Weaver gone?

A tap on her shoulder made her jump and turn only to be met with the disapproving looks of her friends and Castaspella

“Adora, what happened?” Glimmer asked, a palpable sadness in her eyes. Castaspella looked aghast at the loss of the crystals and took a deep breath. Adora steeled herself for punishment when Castaspella turned to her, but almost fell over in shock when all the head sorceress did was smile at her and ask if she was ok. What? Surely what she did warranted punishment? The lines between commander and mother were still so very blurred in her mind that she wasn’t sure what to expect anymore from anyone. 

Castaspella waved her hand, her motions wide and sweeping as she cast another spell, repairing the damage to the crystals and restoring order to the room. The blonde snuck a look across to Catra, knowing that her punch wouldn’t be so easily repaired but saw that the feline’s heterochromic eyes were staring straight back at her. 

“Catra, I’m-“ she started, but was cut off by a wave of Catra’s hand and a toothy smile on her face.

“What, that? Barely felt it,” she boasted. “Really Adora, it’s ok. I know you’re tired.”

“But I saw-“

“Adora, the Horde aren’t here, you’re safe,” Bow said earnestly and Castaspella nodded in the background. 

“I know, but she-“

“We know you didn’t mean to hit Catra or destroy the crystals Adora,” Glimmer added. 

She knew, logically, that they were trying to reassure her but they weren’t listening to her. She was trying to say something but they weren’t hearing her and she thought it was the height of irony, considering that she was the deaf one. It hadn’t escaped her notice that whilst they were all being so accommodating to her tiredness and exhaustion, not one of them believed her when she told them something was in the darkness. 

“You’re not even listening to me! I know what I saw!” she screamed with frustration, almost tugging out her own hair in anger. “Why won’t you believe me?”

Looking directly at Catra, Adora pleaded. “I know it’s her. She’s in the shadows and she is here. I’m not making it up. I’m not crazy. Just trust me, please?” 

And Catra hesitated, a split second of indecision that would cost her a lifetime. Adora had trusted her with her life, sacrificing her hearing for her. She had trusted her with her future, leaving the decision to leave the Horde up to her. She’d trusted her with her heart, loving her completely. But Catra couldn’t trust that Adora wasn’t crazy. 

A flash of horror and despair passed across Adora’s face and she raced from the room, tears streaming from her eyes at the realisation that Catra’s belief in her was not as whole as she thought it was. Not as solid. Not as unwavering as hers was.

As soon as the blonde crashed through the doors, Catra turned to give chase, with Bow and Glimmer rushing after her, but the heavy doors slammed closed behind her. Shadows crept up the walls, encasing them in darkness as they covered the skylight opening and blocked their view of the aligning moons. The shadows themselves seemed to detach from the surfaces they clung to and bound them in place, unable to move and unable to speak. They all watched, trembling with effort, as the shadows spilling from the font coalesced into a human form. 

Shadow Weaver took shape before them, becoming solid and real and terrifying as they could gaze on helplessly. She glided off the platform, approaching the others in the room and chuckled ominously.

“You really should have believed her,” she crooned, syrupy thick voice coating the inside of Catra’s ears and making her feel sticky and sick. Waving a dismissive hand at them (she looked so much like Catra’s memories), she sent them all tumbling into a darkened corner, restraints holding fast, as she turned back to the font and the lunar lenses. 

“Now, sit there quietly. I’ll have the protections down shortly and Mystacor will be conquered for the Horde.” She said this with an entirely placid tone, not once reacting beyond mild irritation at them, except for when she mentioned Adora and her voice flared with anger at Catra. “And I’ll bring Adora back and away from you, mongrel!”

Bow and Glimmer looked at Catra helplessly as they were unable to move, stuck in the corner as the dark sorceress began her casting to remove Mystacor’s protections. Catra seemed to have shrunk in on herself, appearing smaller and less confident, like an abused animal in front of it’s abuser. Castaspella knew instantly that this was the person who seeded such distrust of older female figures in the girls’ lives; who walked the line between commander and mother so poorly.

“Light Spinner,” she spat and the children’s heads whipped towards her, “how did you manage to come back?”

“Light Spinner? Her name is Shadow Weaver,” Catra said in confusion.

Shadow Weaver laughed maliciously. “Ah, Castaspella. The useless child-“ Castaspella’s eyes darkened at this and Catra’s eyes widened, “-so little talent compared to Micah.”

“You don’t get to speak his name!” she shouted, her perfect hair bun unravelling slightly with her anger as she fought her restraints. For a minute, Catra felt like she knew what the sorceress was feeling: inadequacy coupled with fierce protectiveness, the need to shield someone from Shadow Weaver’s cancerous attentions whilst constantly feeling ineffectual. Was that what Shadow Weaver was doing with her and Adora all those years?

“Be silent child! Yes, I was once known as Light Spinner when I walked amongst those in Mystacor, but I was cast out because you all feared my powers!”

“You cast the Spell of Obtainment! You turned yourself into the monster you see in the mirror,” Castaspella spat angrily and was silenced immediately by a shadow wending around her mouth, gagging her until only her eyes shone with rage. Shadow Weaver breathed deeply, muttering that they were testing her patience, and turned back to the lunar lenses. 

“I will have the shield down momentarily and then you will no longer be a nuisance to me.” She raised her hands in the air, the stream of shadows covering the open roof thickening and seeming to form a solid barrier, preventing the lunar lenses from recharging with the moons’ energies and stopping the power to the protection spell. 

In that moment, there was a fracturing crash from the door as a line of pure white light appeared in the darkness, slashing upwards and penetrating the dimness. Streams of blinding light poured in, sending the vile shadow creatures scurrying away in fright. Through the opening, the majestic form of She-ra appeared as she shouldered her way into the Lunarium. Sparing a brief glance at the others wrapped in darkness, her luminous blue eyes focussed on Shadow Weaver. 

“Shadow Weaver?” she queried. “What are you doing here?” A brief look of surprise flashed onto her features followed by a thundering frown, her brows furrowing beneath her tiara. She hadn’t been imagining things, the shadows had been moving and it was Shadow Weaver doing it. 

“Adora,” the Horde sorceress purred, turning her head to look at Adora as She-ra, taking in the form of the warrior princess and she burned with want. She wanted that power and the power that She-ra would allow her access to. “I’m here to bring you home. When the shield is down, the Horde will come to Mystacor and bring you home to me.”

She curled the words on her tongue, sickeningly sweet. “I’ve missed you Adora and I want you to come home.” Adora paused at the words; did she mean that? She wanted her to come home? Shadow Weaver wanted her back, a small sliver of concern showing for Adora and she wanted dearly. 

Growing up, she’d wanted Shadow Weaver’s attention and approval more than anything. Shadow Weaver was her mother, for all intents and purposes, teaching her how to lace her boots and pull her hair up in a ponytail. She’d been the person she went to when she was upset and Shadow Weaver had invested so much in her.

(She studiously ignored how Shadow Weaver had tossed her aside when she lost her hearing, like a broken china doll. She studiously ignored how Shadow Weaver had whispered inadequacies in her ears, making her feel valueless. She studiously ignored how Shadow Weaver had left her with gaping holes in her memories, only visible when she poked her fingers through those holes in the darkness of night, wondering what she had done that day.)

Catra stared on at Adora, eyes disbelieving as she perforated into the room. She was standing before them, opposite Shadow Weaver as she whispered lies into her ears. Catra couldn’t stand this; this is what she’d done before Adora lost her hearing. She would spin falsities, making Adora believe her self-worth was intrinsically linked to her behaviour. Catra knew that, if Shadow Weaver got her hands on Adora, she would never see her again. She would be whisked into Shadow Weaver’s gloomy embrace and would never be released again. And Catra wouldn’t allow that to happen.

“Don’t listen to her, Adora!” Catra yelled loudly, making Adora turn back to her. “Don’t forget that she, essentially, conducted psychological warfare on you by making the shadows jump to life.”

Adora’s blue eyes became fiery as the feline said this. “What, you mean the thing she did that none of you believed happened? Funny how you all believe me now!” Catra flinched at the blonde’s words, looking to the floor. Bow and Glimmer spluttered their defence as Castaspella remained silenced by the shadows. 

“You see Adora? They didn’t believe you and they don’t care about you, not like I do,” Shadow Weaver said, the shadow’s darkening as the lunar eclipse continued, almost over. “They’ll never understand you like I do. They just want to use you.”

Adora furiously turned on her, her hand shaking as she held her sword pointed to the sorceress. “Shut up! You never loved me! You just played twisted mind games with me! I am nothing like you: you’re bitter and cruel and you used me!”

“Be quiet Adora! We’ll address this misbehaviour when we get you home!”

“No! I’m not going back! You don’t have any power over me anymore!” 

With a beam of light that blinded everyone, Adora’s sword transformed into a golden shield, the pale blue stone nestled in the centre. She dashed forwards towards the font and leapt onto a floating platform. Shadow Weaver let out a cry of displeasure as Adora thrust the shield forwards into the beam of light from the moons, splintering it into the lunar lenses. The fractals of light spiralled through the air, dispersing the shadows as they shrieked. 

The Lunarium was flooded with light as the lunar lenses recharged, abolishing the shadows and renewing the spells of protection. With the protective incantations renewed, the simulacrum of Shadow Weaver vanished, taking her invasive words with it. The shadows binding the others disappeared and they were released. Castaspella rushed forwards to check the protections, knowing that her duty trumped her love for Glimmer and the others. Once she had assured herself of the safety of Mystacor, she gathered Glimmer and Bow into a strong embrace. She had tears in her eyes, feeling useless as the witch attacked her niece, her last link to Micah and she struggled to come to terms with that. 

Glimmer tolerated the hug, sighing heavily but she had a sliver of fear in her eyes and her hands were firmly clasped in Castaspella’s robes. Bow was surrounding the pair, his eyes twinkling. The impotent feeling, being unable to help anyone, watching as his friends suffered was a horrible feeling and he never wanted to feel that again. 

Catra slunk closer to Adora as she kept her She-ra transformation. Adora retained her transformation because she wanted to have a proper conversation with everyone, but she released her shield onto the floor, sitting next to it. After a quick embrace, the two were sat next to each other, with Bow, Glimmer and Castaspella forming a circle with them. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you Adora,” Bow mourned and Glimmer nodded in the background. Castaspella smiled ruefully, adding her apologies to the group. Catra coloured and looked down to the side, mumbling an apology as well.

“It’s ok. I was upset that you didn’t trust me but I remembered that that was what Shadow Weaver did: she turns people on each other, manipulates them against each other. I realised this as I was running away and I’m sorry I ran.” Catra grasped her hand firmly, disliking that Adora was apologising when she had hurt her. Turning to her, Adora kept Catra’s gaze, staring deeply into her eyes.

“Do you know why I came back? Because you didn’t follow me and I knew something must have stopped you. You would never let me leave without following, just like I wouldn’t with you. Because I love you and I know that you love me as well.”

Catra couldn’t help herself, she crashed forwards and enveloped Adora in a tight hug, kissing her deeply. She knew that Adora loved her but she thought she’d lost that with her hesitation; it was so reassuring to know that she hadn’t and that they could work through this together. She got the same thrill kissing Adora as she always did, despite her being She-ra at that moment but that quickly changed as Adora lost control over the transformation and became herself again. 

Giggling into their kiss, Adora smiled with Catra’s lips pressed firmly against her own, making her chest pop with excitement and a fizzy sensation settle in her stomach. Castaspella smiled indulgently and Bow and Glimmer were crooning in the background, making Catra’s cheeks flush darkly and she broke the kiss, turning to shout at the other two. 

They stumbled from the Lunarium back to the beach, all wanting to be outside in the light after their stint in the shadows. They curled up on their blankets, Castaspella letting her hair down (literally) as she released her headdress and laid back, her dark lips curled into a contented smile. Bow and Glimmer were tucked into each other, Glimmer’s head resting on Bow’s shoulder and napping serenely.

Catra and Adora were nestled on another blanket. With all the events of the day and the relief of the transformation, Adora was left exhausted and shattered, her head resting on Catra’s collarbone as the feline curled her arms protectively around her. Now that she wasn’t being stalked by the shadows, she could close her eyes and finally _rest_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think 
> 
> BYB x


	8. Princess Prom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’d surrounded herself with people who accepted her and, recently, they had been going places and on missions were others respected her that she’d almost forgotten what it was like to be judged unfairly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am completely blown away by all your kind comments and kudos. I really am. I never expected this little bunny to get such a response.

Dawn broke over the castle of Brightmoon, casting rays of bright light over the pointed turrets and ramparts. The light reflected off the staves of the positioned guards, their forms perfectly placed and postures straight. Their silvered helmets winked with reflections and their long white plumes fell down their backs. Currently, the drawbridge over the twinkling lake was pulled up, denying access to the castle itself, and the Moonstone was opalescent in the morning sun. 

Within the castle, in the room that had quickly become “theirs”, Adora and Catra were curled around one another tightly on their shared bed. After the debacle of their first night they had officially (well, no one had done anything about it and they were sure that Angella knew about it but hadn’t said no, so that was basically official, right?) shared a room. As Glimmer had promised, the person eating monstrosity had been swapped out for a double bed, thin firm mattress on a metal frame with two pillows and a thin blanket.

It was perfect. 

Since then, Adora and Catra had spent every night curled up together, facing each other in bed. Adora liked to wake up looking at Catra, having her directly in her field of vision to compensate for her inability to hear and she wanted to find her. Catra liked to wake up looking at Adora because she could. 

They had tried to sleep separately whilst sharing the same room but neither one of them slept well and they had migrated together in the night. Bow and Glimmer seemed to intermittently share a bed as well, so it didn’t seem quite so strange to them when they did. Castaspella had reassured them, over a cup of warm tea sitting in an airy room on Mystacor, that sharing a bed was a perfectly normal thing to do with someone you care about if you wanted to, and that their “relationship” wasn’t strange because of it.

She then explained about what relationships were and watched as the two girls’ eyes widened with the knowledge. Their tea had long gone cold and the biscuits that had been funnelling into Adora’s mouth with rapidity had been left untouched as the older woman explained about families, friends and lovers. They had a name for what they were: partners. Adora had embraced this knowledge, determined to find out what were things “partners” did together and what were the rules of a relationship and Castaspella had laughed.

“Girls, there are no rules. You love who you love and, as long as everything is done with consent and communication, your relationship can be whatever you want it to be.” 

She received a long, slow blink from both of them and then had the truly depressing task of explaining consent to them, which had left her abandoning her tea entirely and breaking open the bottle of wine that had been gifted to her many years ago whilst cursing Shadow Weaver all over again.

The foursome had left Mystacor, rested and the Horde pair were armed with some life knowledge that they had been sorely lacking up to that point, Castaspella waving in the background, having promised to have them knitwear ready for their next visit. It was official: Castaspella was now Adora and Catra’s and they weren’t letting her go. For two people that knew so little of the positives in life, they recognised them when they came along and held fast, refusing to loosen their grips for fear of losing them. That’s why they stuck to Bow and Glimmer. That’s why they joined the Rebellion. That’s why they had clung to each other. 

On the journey home, they had quizzed Bow and Glimmer about families, relationships and other things, and Castaspella had promised to come and visit them in Brightmoon soon. She had promised this with a grimace on her dark lips and a furrow on her brow as she nursed her sore head. She wondered if she could get Angella to give the girls the “sex talk” on her behalf.

But then, a truly wicked thought crossed her mind. Perhaps she could get Angella to give them the “sex talk” whilst she watched. Now _that_ would be entertaining. 

So, when the sunlight drifted through the gauzy curtains in their room, both girls were curled like commas, facing each other and woke up gradually. Adora blinked open her eyes and saw that Catra was facing her, still asleep and she laid there, just watching her for a moment. It was an unusual feeling, to be able to openly admire Catra; back in the Horde, they had had to keep everything a secret, fearing how the higher ups and Shadow Weaver would react. It was safer to keep their relationship secret from everyone. 

Their squad had an inkling, it would be impossible for them not to. Even Kyle had his suspicions, having seen them entwined in the same bed too many times. And, when they were growing up, they were always physically affectionate with each other, hugging intermittently and holding hands. When Adora lost her hearing, she had clung to Catra, metaphorically and physically, so it wasn’t unusual to see them with hands clasped in the corridor. 

They had to be much more careful with kisses, saving them for the darkest of nights and the quietest of corners. There was always a lingering fear of Shadow Weaver materialising out of the shadows, so they were chaste and swift, never prolonged, never savoured. 

There was so much in life to savour now: food, friends, family but the thing that Adora cherished the most was that she could savour Catra. They could hold hands and kiss, share a bed and publicly love each other without repercussion. And, she was going to take advantage of that. 

Eventually, Catra’s eyelashes lifted from her freckled cheeks and she woke to see that Adora was staring at her. Gracing a small smile and a smaller kiss, they rose for the morning. Dressing in silence, Catra turned to Adora and asked what she wanted to do today.

There were no meetings planned for today and no missions so they didn’t have anything scheduled. Adora floundered, balking at her new freedom to decide and froze. Back in the Horde, her days were rostered to the final minute, every second utilised and she had no say in the plans. Here in the Rebellion, it seemed they were always running missions or attending meetings. On the rare occasions nothing was scheduled, someone else had always selected the activity and she’d been allowed to tag along, like when they visited the library.

What _did_ she want to do today? She could go and get in some training, or some She-ra practice, or she could go to the library to read some more. The choices were huge and she quivered internally at the options. What if she chose the wrong one?

Seeing the spiral of panic Adora was descending into, Catra scratched her blonde head affectionately, sending a bolt of affection through Adora that rested heavily in her chest and made her stomach bubble. “It’s not that hard a choice, idiot,” she gently chided with a smile. “How about we get some breakfast and we can decide afterwards?” 

“I’m not an idiot,” she murmured but agreed to the plan and Catra laughed. Adora was sure the sound was bright and merry and a little mean and she missed it terribly, but now she had She-ra, she at least had the promise of hearing it again, instead of the despair of silence.

“Yes, you are. But you’re my idiot,” the words came back and it caused her to flush down to beneath her shirt collar. She geared herself up, pouting a little at Catra’s teasing and pulled open their heavy room door and halted mid-step as she almost collided with one of the Brightmoon guards. She had a slashing scar over the bridge of her nose and her hair was bi-coloured, with tanned skin and an authoritative demeanour that sent Adora’s eyes sparkling and Catra’s face reddening (“with anger, Adora! I wasn’t jealous!”).

Her hand was holding a tightly sealed scroll with a wax seal keeping it closed and she thrust it forwards towards Adora. She tentatively took it, seeing her name written on the outside in a cursive, flowing script. Her brow furrowed in confusion. 

“What’s this?” she muttered to Catra, not wanting her voice to carry to the general standing before her. She glanced back to the feline who shrugged her shoulders with uncertainty. Juliet saw the exchange, confused why Adora didn’t address the question to her but kept silent. When Adora turned back to her, she mentioned that it was a letter for her and sharply departed. Perhaps Adora wasn’t comfortable vocalising in front of her just yet. Maybe it would change with time and Juliet reassured herself that she shouldn’t take it personally. 

Adora had never received a letter in her life; all summons in the Fright Zone were through the system of microphones and speakers that were embedded in the walls and were not requests. Turning the letter over in her hands, she toyed with the option of not opening it (she had that option, she _could_ ignore it if she wanted to) but she gently broke the wax seal, red gathering under her fingernails.

Catra’s curious head popped over her shoulder, her cheek resting gently against her useless ear, fur rubbing gently on her skin. 

“What on Etheria is an “All Princess Ball?”

\--

“Princess Prom! Princess Prom! Princess Prom! Princess Prom!” Bow and Glimmer were chanting as they span around Glimmer’s bedroom, Bow breaking off to pose in one corner, Glimmer practicing her curtsy. Adora and Catra stood in the entrance, nonplussed and exchanged uncertain looks. What was going on? Was this another “outside of the Horde” thing they didn’t understand? Or a “Rebellion” thing? Or was this a “Princess” thing they didn’t understand? 

Catra took a half step backwards, pulling Adora’s arm with her as though wanting to run from the scene in front of her. 

“Ok, they’ve both gone crazy. Quick Adora, we don’t want to catch it,” she signalled to Adora, who giggled wildly at it. Bow and Glimmer turned, in time to catch the end of their signals, Glimmer putting on a mock hurt face as Bow clenched his hand over his heart (both the pattern on his top and his actual heart), face aghast with false outrage. 

“Catra, rude!” Glimmer said, a wicked smirk on her face. Bow knew that she was keeping count of their verbal barbs in her head, having grown up with Glimmer, and just _knew_ that she had a tally going. He also knew that she was losing and it was galling her so it was only a matter of time before she retaliated. One of Glimmer’s issues was that she sometimes crossed that fine line between banter and insult and he knew that she was dancing on that line right now. 

“The ball is a gathering of all the princesses in Etheria,” he said, hoping to distract Glimmer from her intended tirade. “It only happens once a decade and it’s a great chance to develop relations with people.”

“And it’s a giant party! You guys like parties!” Glimmer chimed in and the Horde girls’ eyes sparkled as they remembered their first party in Thaymor. “Dancing, food, fancy dresses! It has everything.”

“Dresses?” Catra grimaced at the thought, “I hate dresses.” 

“Dancing?” Adora asked tentatively. “I’m no good at dancing and I’m only a princess part of the time. Are you sure I should even go?” 

“Of course! Every princess is invited, even those without runestones or nations. You’re a princess, you should come!” Glimmer said.

“It’s pretty much the only time every princess in Etheria gathers together so it’s the only chance to talk to everyone at the same time. Plus, it’s an entirely neutral event so the Horde shouldn’t be able to attack it.”

“Entirely neutral?” Catra scoffed, her brows raised in disbelief. “Yeah, I’d attack that in a heartbeat.” 

“Well, the Horde haven’t in all the years it’s been running,” Bow said. If it were up to Catra, she would definitely launch an assault there, no one would never expect it as they had been lulled into a false sense of security by its neutrality. But, she supposed, if it were princesses only, there was no one in the Horde that would be invited and they wouldn’t even be allowed into the venue. 

“Yeah, it’s all in the invite,” Glimmer said, unrolling the rest of Adora’s letter. The letter unfurled comically, bouncing along the floor as reams of parchment were revealed, filled with tiny writing. Adora picked up the paper, eyes furrowed as she read the contents. 

“Rules for greeting the hostess, expected curtsy depth, stair descending etiquette? This is like a battle plan,” she said and her eyes started to sparkle at the thought. Battle planning? This, she could do. She was good at planning and she was going to master this! She looked over the writing closer, seeing that the ball was being hosted by Princess Frosta in the Kingdom of Snows. 

“Who’s Princess Frosta?” she asked and Glimmer explained that she was an incredibly powerful princess who was hosting. “Was she at the last ball? What’s she like?”

“No, this’ll be my first prom so I don’t know,” Glimmer said. “It’ll be Frosta’s first one as well.” 

“First hosting or attending?” Adora asked, wanting to know about the host. The first step for strategy was knowing about the enemy and planning this like a military operation was easier for her than planning a social event. It came to light that Frosta was young, younger than the other princesses. Both Adora and Catra could empathise with her: this would be her chance to show Etheria that she wasn’t to be underestimated and that she was capable. They had both felt that way, for different reasons, and they intimately knew that sensation and the desire to be taken seriously. 

“Erm, I’m no good at children,” Adora said, her face falling. “They talk too fast and slur their words too much. I think I’ll just stay here, but you guys go and have fun!”

“It’s ok, Adora! Frosta’s a princess so I’m sure you won’t have any trouble with her. Plus, we’ll all be there with you! Me and Bow will be going together and I’m guessing Catra will be you’re plus one?” 

Bow nodded in agreement. Back during the siege of Plumeria, Perfuma had asked Bow to attend the ball with her but he remembered those long hours of planning with Glimmer. She and Bow had come up with the idea that they would attend Princess Prom together when it happened back when they were tiny children (well, Bow was smaller, Glimmer had remained relatively the same size, much to her chagrin), laying on Glimmer’s bed, kicking their feet back and forth. 

He had declined Perfuma sadly, promising her a dance, as he had already made a promise to Glimmer and he couldn’t break it. It went against the cardinal rules of friendship and Glimmer didn’t deserve that. Perfuma seemed to take it well, continuing her support of the Rebellion and seemed to harbour no ill feelings towards Bow or Glimmer. 

“Yeah, we’ll all be there for you during the ball, Adora,” Bow chimed in and, after a brief pause, his eyes lit up brightly. 

“Plan: Princess Prom is a go!”

\--

Scorpia stared at the letter in her pincers, gripping it gently between her crimson claws with trepidation. She had been invited to the All Princess Ball in the Kingdom of Snows but the parchment was weighing heavily in her grip. She knew that she’d only been invited out of some political obligation, not because she was wanted there. She made the other princesses uncomfortable with her size and exoskeleton and Scorpioni hadn’t been warmly welcomed anywhere, even before they had opened their home to Hordak.

She’d received the letter during the morning meal in the mess, working her way through her ration bar. The other Force Captains looked up at the letter’s arrival, physical messages being unusual in the Fright Zone. It was brought to her by a terrified looking cadet, his hands trembling as he approached her. She tried to smile reassuringly at him but he must had found her carapace intimidating as he shook even more. Practically throwing the letter at her, he ran away.

She saw her name on the scroll and the wax seal and her heart dropped in her chest. Was it that time already? She thought about slinking out of morning training to go back to her room and “losing” the letter but, as she stood to sneak out, her name rang out across the mess hall.

“Force Captain Scorpia, follow me,” Shadow Weaver commanded from the corner, eyes narrowed in expectation through her mask. Standing beside her was a senior Force Captain, teal blue skin shimmering with scales and her extra tentacles drifting lazily behind her. She was tall and imposing, her arms crossed and her single amber eye glaring as her other was concealed behind a patch. 

In the Black Garnet chamber, Shadow Weaver held out her hand expectantly and Scorpia reluctantly dropped the letter, still sealed. The sorceress broke the seal and sped her way through the invitation. Scorpia sort of knew what was written there: etiquette rules and greetings, but her focus was on Shadow Weaver, whose mask was completely inscrutable. 

“So, you received an invitation to the All Princess Ball,” she purred and Scorpia’s hair prickled at her tone. 

“Yeah!” she replied, her claw rubbing at her neck in embarrassment. “I don’t think I’m going to go though.” 

“No, you’re going. And Octavia will accompany you,” Shadow Weaver said, nodding to the other Force Captain. Scorpia looked to her and saw that a flat eye was staring back at her, oceanic tendrils swaying behind the firmly planted woman. She quaked a little at the penetrating gaze. 

“I’ll brief you closer to the time regarding your mission.” Wait, what? The ball was neutral, there wasn’t to be any attacks or fights there but when she opened her mouth to say this, she was silenced by a venomous look through Shadow Weaver’s mask.

Sitting back in her room, she was searching through her wardrobe to find something to wear. Last time she attended one of these events, she tried her best to look pretty but she had outgrown her pink dress many years ago. She tried on a few of her other dresses but none of them gave her a feeling of confidence and she wasn’t sure if she could get her broad shoulders and stinger in a dress.

At the back of her wardrobe was a sleek black dress. She’d last seen it worn by her mother and she had been resplendent in it, looking beautiful and glamourous at the same time with her pincers shining wickedly. Perhaps she could wear that? Trying it on, it certainly fit well, with the specially made seams for her shoulders allowing her freedom of movement and her stinger was able to peek through the back. 

But the fact that it was her mother’s dress gave her the confidence to attend the ball; it would be like her mother was there with her and her mothers had always given her the comfort and confidence to do anything. 

\--

Catra crept out of their bedroom, backing through the door as she kept her eyes on Adora. The blonde was standing by the desk, their blanket strung up behind it attached on the wall and a mess of documents and string was trailing across it. She had decided to plan for the ball like a military coup and she was going the full distance with it. 

Every time Catra had tried to distract her or get her to take a break, she was met with Soldier Adora: the perfect warrior who executed plans efficiently and strategized like a Horde commander with a mind like a trap and an intellect that cut like a scalpel. She loved this side of Adora, all sides of Adora, but she was mightily intimidating when she got in this mood. 

She would never normally advocate fleeing, it not being an acceptable strategy in her mind but she made a tactical retreat to Glimmer’s room when Adora broke out a riding crop to help her command the attention of the barren room. 

“Sparkles!” Catra yowled as she crashed through the door. Bow and Glimmer were in there, the contents of Glimmer’s wardrobe on the floor and her accessories exploded everywhere. Bow was sitting on the floor, a tiara on his head and a feather boa around his shoulders and Glimmer was standing in front of a mirror with a lilac dress pressed to her front. They looked up to her in surprise when she entered, both sets of eyes blinking. 

“Adora’s planning this ball thing to excess! Do we really need an obstacle course?” she said and Glimmer’s brows frowned.

“What?”

“When she said earlier that it was like a battle plan? Yeah, she took that seriously. You should see our room!” Catra flopped back onto one of Glimmer’s plush pillows, a hand draped over her eyes in exhaustion. 

“Well, she’s coping with it the only way she knows how,” Bow rationalised, having gained a few rings now in addition to his other accessories and was admiring his hands in the light.

“I get it, I really do,” Catra moaned, “but I feel like she’s missing the important bits to plan because she doesn’t know them.”

“Like what?”

“You mentioned dresses and dancing earlier. You think we have any or know how to do that?” Glimmer and Bow stopped short at that, Glimmer’s dress falling to the floor with a soft thump. They hadn’t thought of that. Neither girl had an extensive wardrobe, well, they had one change of clothes and neither girl knew the traditional dances involved with the ball. 

“And, I bet you anything, Adora is planning to go as She-ra because she has hair envy.” Unspoken was the thought that she would go as She-ra because it afforded the blonde her hearing.

“But, she can’t go as She-ra because there is a strict “no weapons” clause on the invite,” Bow moaned, his bejewelled head drooping and tiara slipping down over one eye.

“Well, who’s going to tell Adora that?”

Glimmer, Catra and Bow exchanged a desperate look, eyes wide and nervous.

“Mum!”

“Your Majesty!”

“Queen Angella!”

The angelic queen arrived in a flurry of white wings, her crown slightly askew as she must have rushed to them, hearing the urgency in their cries. Although she didn’t allow herself the luxury of slamming open the heavy doors, the frenzied look on her face belied her hurried arrival. She was immediately met by the three teens flapping around her, all speaking at once and their voices forming a wall of sound that allowed for no comprehension. After calming them all down, she perched on Glimmer’s window seat, back straight and hands gently folded, and the whole story emerged. 

Sighing deeply, she sent Bow and Glimmer away to the kitchens to fetch some tea and snacks. Turning to Catra, who had a petrified look in her eyes at the thought of being alone with the older woman, she patted the seat next to her in invitation. Tentatively, Catra sat down, her back stiff and fur on end. They appeared to be perfect opposites: the refined queen seated next to the wild cat-girl, one seated with poised elegance, the other ramrod straight and tense. Catra looked to the queen and all she could see was grace and elegance, none of the roughness that Glimmer seemed to have at times.

“Catra, I know Glimmer, and Bow, can be a little much at times and, honestly, I missed most of their point. What were your concerns?” she asked, gently probing her queries to the terrified looking girl. Catra’s experiences with older women were tainted by Shadow Weaver and she was, understandably, cautious about this one-on-one time with the queen.

“Erm, well, Adora will want to go as She-ra, but that’s not allowed.”

“Ok, so how do we best approach Adora?” It was so rare for anyone to ask Catra’s opinion on something, well it _was_ back in the Horde. She rationalised that she knew Adora best and that she knew how she would respond but it was so nice to be asked her opinion by the queen; it made her feel a little valued and wanted. 

“Probably best just to tell her straight,” was her response, knowing that Adora, like her, valued honesty to the point of bluntness. It was possibly a remnant of their youth but it seemed that in the Horde, everyone had a second agenda, a secret plan, and so honesty was such a rare commodity that it was cherished by them both. 

Angella nodded in agreement, humming her approval of the course of action which absolutely did not set a warmth burning inside Catra. Glancing up at the angelic queen through her eyelashes, she mumbled her other concerns. 

“We don’t have clothes or know any of the dances either,” she said it so quietly, she was sure that Angella must have missed it and she wouldn’t repeat it for anything, but the queen’s lavender eyes, so similar but so different to Glimmer’s, softened in reception. A brief pause held the air heavy as Angella thought out her plan.

“Well, we’ll have to sort that. Glimmer can teach you the dances and Bow can take you to the tailors. We’ll get you and Adora a dress each for the evening.” As soon as she said it, she saw the wince flit across Catra’s freckled cheeks and a thought occurred to her. “Or would you like a suit?”

Mouth gaping wide, Catra stared at her with shock. “I’m allowed a suit? I don’t have to wear a dress?” came the amazed reply and Angella nodded in reassurance. Catra’s whole face lit up at the answer, clearly the thought of being forced into a dress was weighing heavily on her, and she smiled toothily. 

Angella seized the opportunity with Catra and explained that she could wear what she wanted, no-one would force her to wear something she wasn’t comfortable in and, if someone tried, she was welcome to slash them with her claws. After seeming to be paralysed from shock, Catra loosened a surprised laugh at the queen’s vicious and violent suggestion.

Perhaps a little of Glimmer’s savagery was inherited from Angella, after all.

Bow and Glimmer returned with the requested snacks and, between them and several scones, they came up with their own battle plan to rival Adora’s. Angella and Glimmer would go to the blonde, talk her out of her military planning and start learning the dances whilst Bow took Catra to the tailors. In a few hours they would switch. 

Filled with trepidation at the thought of being away from Adora, Catra looked to Glimmer. She could see the soft reassurance on her face, eyes sparkling with comfort. “We’ll look after her, Catra,” she said, cutting directly to the heart of the issue. “And, if anything happens, we’re just a teleport away.”

Sighing with relief, Catra nodded. “Take care of her, Sparkles.”

“Of course, Horde scum.”

\--

Glimmer got the easier job, Bow thought bitterly. Teaching Adora to dance _had_ to be easier than this. 

Everything had seemed fine when he and Catra entered the tailors. The racks were bursting with completed dresses and suits, and one of the walls was covered from top to bottom in reams of fabric. A tailor’s mannequin stood in the centre of the room, flanked on all sides by the racks, fabric and changing areas. 

A small bell over the door chimed merrily as they entered and drew the attention of a sales assistant, who peered at them over her pince-nez with a haughty expression. 

“May I help you?” she drawled, clearly under the impression that Bow and Catra were in the wrong place. Bow could feel Catra’s fur starting to stand on end and, like with Glimmer, he knew instinctively that they were in for some verbal barbs and metaphorical fur flying if he let her speak. 

“Just browsing for now,” he said hurriedly and grasped Catra’s shoulders, pushing the stiff girl towards the ready to wear clothes. Catra was hissing under her breath like a scorned cat and Bow couldn’t help but think it was such a cute noise. As they moved closer to the dresses, he could feel Catra’s shoulders becoming increasingly stiff as they crept closer to her ears. 

Pausing briefly, he stopped his forward march and turned Catra to face him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, curious as to why Catra had retreated back into her shell. “If it’s because of that woman’s attitude, I get it but I’m sure she’s just having a bad day.”

“Bow, she’s not just having a bad day, she doesn’t think we belong here. And we don’t,” Catra responded, directing most of her words to the floor as her ears drooped. She had spent her whole life battling to belong, fighting against people who thought she shouldn’t be where she was. Adora was a complete anomaly, in that she accepted and embraced her wholeheartedly and immediately. Bow and Glimmer were oddities as they were warming to her, and her to them. Angella and Castaspella were strange as well, but Catra was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, Shadow Weaver was the odd one in her framework for the older-maternal-commander woman. 

She’d surrounded herself with people who accepted her and, recently, they had been going places and on missions were others respected her that she’d almost forgotten what it was like to be judged unfairly.

(Years of having her scores “go missing”, her tests sabotaged, her things ruined had been forgotten in the recent halcyon days in the Rebellion. But how could she ever forget what she is? She would never be anything but a wild animal clinging to Adora’s shadow, desperate to step a toe out into the sun but fearful that that same sunlight would burn her.)

“Hey now,” Bow said, palms flat against her shoulders and looking her directly in the eye with a warm, calm gaze. “We belong here just as much as anyone else. And, if they don’t want us here, well, it’s their loss. We’ll go somewhere else and do our shopping there; their opinions don’t matter to us.”

And, in that one fragment of a statement, said out of reassurance and care, Catra saw a sliver of truth. What did that saleswoman’s opinion matter to her? It meant nothing because it came from someone who meant nothing to her. The only way that her opinion would ever mean something to Catra would be if Catra herself gave it meaning. 

Adora didn’t feel that way, neither did Bow or Glimmer. There were others slowly breeching the circle of protection she had locked herself away in, earning her trust and respect. _Their_ opinions mattered to her.

So what if this random person thought she shouldn’t be here? They were here and so, she had to deal with it. Never again would Catra be made to feel unworthy by someone who hadn’t earned her respect and trust. 

Never again.

With a burgeoning smile, Catra put her hand on Bow’s, giving it a quick, gentle squeeze and she got a bright smile in response as he, literally, sparkled at her. 

“Thanks Bow,” she said. 

“Hey, that’s what friends do. And we’re the Best Friend Squad, so we can do anything!” He took her hand and started to pull her towards the dress section when she stopped, jerking him backwards. 

“I’m sure the squad can do anything but this member can’t wear a dress,” she said, expecting a big fallout. But, perhaps she should have expected something different from Bow, he was “good people” after all. Bow answered with a quick change of direction and a glance over his shoulder in comradery.

“Well, we’ll look at the suits together then.” 

\--

Bow definitely got the easier job, Glimmer thought bitterly. Taking Catra clothes shopping _had_ to be easier than this. 

After reassuring a heartbroken looking Catra, who was being gently pulled out of the door by Bow, she and her mum had headed for Adora’s room. Despite what Catra had said to them, and she could even hear the catty “I told you so” in her mind, nothing could have prepared them for what they saw when they breached the room.

The walls had been plastered with pieces of paper, reams of string trailing between them and colour coded to represent who knows what. Catra wasn’t exaggerating, there was what seemed to be an obstacle course in one corner of the room, with a board divided into section for the dancefloor. Glimmer could see the furious notes Adora had written on the etiquette rules, rules for greeting the hostess and social groups and felt a little lightheaded. Adora had done all this with a single invitation scroll and access to a library. What kind of formidable enemy would she have been if she were planning a Horde invasion with their military backing behind her? She shuddered at the thought, her purple hair hitting her in the face at the action. 

Looking up at their arrival, the opening of the door having led to a new stream of light cascading over the paper-strewn desk, Adora’s eyes lit up. 

“Glimmer! Queen Angella! I think I’ve cracked the preparation for the ball! I’ve familiarised myself with the targets, know all the rules and have strategized the perfect plan for success!” A blinding white smile accompanied her words as she gestured to the different areas of her chaotic room. Adora was clearly in her element here and Glimmer crumpled slightly at the thought of taking her out of it but held true. 

“That’s really great Adora, but it’s not really an “attack plan” kind of party,” she said, her hands gesturing along with her, stumbling less and less frequently. Angella gestured for the three to sit on the soft couches in the corner of the room, covered in scrolls but otherwise, relatively untouched by Adora’s planning frenzy. 

“Adora, we came to ask what you were going to wear and offer a trip to the tailors,” the queen said, enunciating her voice clearly. 

“Er, why?” 

“Well, what are you wearing to the party?” Glimmer asked, heart heavy as she already knew the answer. 

“I was just going to go as She-ra. I mean, she has better hair,” her hand drifted up to her ear, brushing the outer cartilage gently as she reached for the tip of her ponytail. Her face fell when Glimmer explained that she couldn’t bring her sword with her, citing the neutral nature of the ball, and a brief flash of panic went through her eyes. She would be deaf and powerless in a new place and she couldn’t help but feel like she was back in the Horde infirmary: waking up without her hearing, broken and useless. 

Giving her a few moments to gather herself, Angella leaned forwards on her cushion to catch Adora’s attention and her hands in a warm grip. “Adora, everything will be alright. There won’t be a need for you to become She-ra at the ball. Part of your new life is about learning how to grow outside the Horde and this is part of that. Learning how to act in non-hostile situations will be important for you and Catra.”

“It’s also about giving you choices. What do you want to wear? What do you want to eat? Which songs, if any, do you want to dance to? Little choices like these will help pave the way for bigger ones and help you grow into your own person.”

Glimmer watched with wide, kind eyes as Adora’s filled with tears. Looking back to her chaotic room, papers strewn everywhere in her flurry of planning, she realised that she didn’t want to approach the prom like a military attack. She wanted to have fun, in a neutral place, and lose herself. Like in Thaymor. Like in Catra’s kisses. 

Taking a fortifying breath, the blonde looked back to the angelic pair and asked where they started. That led them to the ballroom of the castle, music drifting through the air as Glimmer showed her the steps to the dance. Because Adora couldn’t hear the music, it was important that she got the rhythm right so that, once she got started, she could continue the dance onwards. Glimmer felt as though she’d been demonstrating these moves for hours and winced with every step she made because, for all of Adora’s lightness on the battlefield, she had managed to stand on Glimmer’s feet seemingly with every move she made. 

Glimmer wanted to be angry; her feet hurt and she was getting tired and she was putting so much effort in but not seeing any improvement. But, looking into Adora’s sad eyes filled with self-loathing, she couldn’t be upset. Eventually, with Glimmer before her and Angella bracketing Adora from behind, they managed a complete circuit of the song, steps in synchrony and perfectly timed. Glimmer was about ready to collapse with exhaustion and eyed the chair in the corner appreciatively when she was rushed into from the side suddenly. 

“Thank you, Glimmer!” Adora said, her face bright and happy. Some strands of her blonde hair had come loose from her ponytail and were wispy around her face. “I’ve never had anyone teach me to dance before!” 

Glimmer’s reflexive sarcastic response of “oh, really?” was dampened ruthlessly as she smiled back weakly. She couldn’t bring herself to scathingly tease Adora like she did Catra, who reacted back in kind. It was nice to find someone who spoke the same language she did: barbed taunts and witticism with underlying care. Something about Adora’s nature suggested to Glimmer that she would find any banter personal and penetrating from her. Catra was the only one who managed to tease the blonde without consequence; to Glimmer, it felt like she would be kicking a puppy. 

The doors to the ballroom opened and Catra’s head peeked in, spotted Adora and she raced across the dance floor with impressive speed to crash into the blonde. Unfortunately, Adora still had Glimmer wrapped tight in her embrace and so all three went hurtling to the ground. 

“Catra!” the Brightmoon princess yelled from her position on the bottom of the pile and Catra snickered triumphantly. Scattered around them was a pile of boxes and bags from the tailors, containing Catra’s clothes, as the feline excitedly told Adora about her shopping trip. Just when she was about to reach into one of the bags and pull out her outfit, Bow stopped her.

“If you pull it out, you’ll wrinkle it,” he said and mercifully, Catra didn’t fight him on it. They exchanged a small smile and Glimmer stared on in bitterness. Adora had pulled Catra back upright and was excitedly showing her the new dance steps she’d learned. 

“So, when Catra and I were out shopping, the sales assistant was a little rude to us,” Bow said conspiratorially to Glimmer, both of them standing off to the side watching Adora butcher her way through the dance she’d just learned. Glimmer bit down on the reflex to call out that the steps were wrong but Adora looked so happy right now, spinning Catra with abandon and joy that she held her tongue. Glimmer’s eyes filled with righteous fury that someone had been rude to Bow (and Catra, she supposed) and she burned with the need to deal out justice. She then paused for a moment, before slapping herself in the face as she realised what she’d just mentally signed up for. 

Bow _definitely_ got the easier job because now she had to take Adora clothes shopping to teach the sales assistant a lesson.

The pair of princesses stood outside the tailors, Angella having gone back to her duties for the afternoon and trusting Glimmer with the rest (she trusted her!). As they entered, a cloud of sales assistants descended upon them, eager to help and Glimmer could see Adora’s eyes go wide and overwhelmed. She waved them away with an imperious hand and pulled Adora with her down the aisles. She knew that most of the reason they descended on the pair was because they were princesses and status associated with the title and she smouldered. Why hadn’t they offered Bow (and Catra, she supposed) this treatment?

“So, biggest question first,” she said, squashing her rumbling fury in lieu of the task before her. She turned fully to Adora and hands moving to practice, “dresses or suits?” Adora’s eyes, still wide and uncertain, fell on her.

“I can wear a dress?” Glimmer’s heart clenched and, not for the first time and it wouldn’t be for the last either, she mentally cursed the Horde and all they had done.

“Of course you can. Do you want to?” Adora nodded and they headed to the dress section. In her pocket, Adora’s pad began to vibrate with an incoming call and they answered, standing amongst the feathered gowns and sequined baleros. Bow’s face lit up the screen and he waved at them, the small form of Catra gliding around the dancefloor behind him. ‘Curse you, Bow,’ Glimmer thought. Of course he would get the one that wouldn’t stomp on his feet when he wore those heavy boots. 

“I forgot to tell you before you left, Catra’s wearing red,” he crooned and signed off as quickly as he showed up. Adora’s brows raised quizzically as she looked to Glimmer.

“Traditionally, couples have matching outfits,” she said and an adorable flush spread over the bridge of Adora’s nose as her eyes sparkled prettily. A soft “oh” left her lips and a pleased smile grew. 

“You mean we can finally match each other again?” she whispered, as though saying it louder would break a spell. Glimmer nodded and Adora thought that her heart was going to explode from her chest. In the Horde, their outfits had matched when they were younger but as they grew, they deviated. It had left her strangely bereft when they had resigned their younger cadet uniforms, feeling as though she had lost something special. Catra had always needed accommodations for her tail and flexibility so her uniform tended to be a formfitting catsuit whereas Adora had needed (wanted) a high collar to hide her scar and as much skin covered as possible, disliking having her arms and legs on display. (It destroyed her slightly inside every time she transformed into She-ra, with her miles of skin unwillingly on display, just another thing that differed between her and the warrior princess). 

It was nice to know as well that other people felt that strange need to match themselves through their outfits. Talking with Glimmer about how the colours or designs could match but they didn’t have to be identical was eye opening as well. Roaming around the section containing the red dresses, Adora was amazed at the sheer range on offer. Reds of every conceivable shade, dresses of every conceivable design and cut were available and all made to the finest quality and of the finest fabric. To Adora, it seemed like the racks stretched on forever. To Glimmer, it was a suitable display. 

Glimmer and Adora spent a giggly afternoon searching the store for Adora’s dress, trying on all manner of outfits, some actual candidates, some just for fun. Glimmer tried on a pea green princess ball gown that looked ridiculous and Adora sampled a scandalously short purple dress that sent Glimmer into raucous laughter. There was one dress that Adora kept coming back to, her eyes drifting over to it continuously as she imagined it on. Glimmer followed her eyes and saw the dress, silently pulling it off the rack and thrusting it gently into Adora’s arms. 

After Adora had left the changing room, gown in hand, they went to the desk to buy it. Adora was making her way to the door when Glimmer paused, turned back to the flock of assistants and informed them they were going to the ball with the two that were in here earlier and that she hoped their service was just as good otherwise she’d be having words with the merchant director. 

The white faces of the staff followed them out the shop, Adora smiling innocently and Glimmer’s razor-sharp grin cutting the path behind them. 

\--

Catra wasn’t entirely sure why Glimmer had taken Adora to get ready but when she saw the alarming amount of jewellry in her arms, she executed a quick escape to Bow’s room. She’d managed to convince Bow to let her stay with him, sitting on his cushioned couch and calling suggestions to him as he fussed in front of a mirror. 

She was in her dark maroon suit, form fitting trousers hugging her curved legs and a hole hastily sewn in place for her tail. Her jacket was left open, lapels flapping in the breeze and was lined and edged with a brighter red fabric identical to her shirt. Buttoned in place and tucked in, an untied bowtie dangled artfully around her neck and she slipped on her fingerless gloves which framed her claws nicely. 

Bow had begged and pleaded with her to buy some shoes but she couldn’t face it. She’d never worn shoes in her life, favouring the flexibility and dextrous nature of her toes to any form of footwear, and she wasn’t intending to now. Even though she was about to go to the Kingdom of Snows, she was adamant that she was staying barefoot and Bow sighed in defeat. 

Her faceplate was firmly in place, mainly to help hold her unruly hair back, and Bow’s fingers twitched like he wanted to brush it.

“Just try it, heart boy,” she’d smirked playfully and got a tongue poked at her in response, reflected in the mirror. He was pulling his white suit jacket in place, worn over a lavender shirt and indigo cummerbund and black trousers. For some reason, he kept fussing with his clothes, something not sitting right and, after a few moments, Catra realised what was wrong.

“You don’t have a crop top on,” she said, frowning. It was like seeing Adora without her hair poof, or Glimmer without her sparkles; there was just something inherently wrong with the image. 

“Yeah,” he replied, looking a little forlorn and uncertain and Catra wasn’t sure she liked the look on Bow. “It’s a bit more of a high-class affair and I thought I should try not to wear one.”

She frowned at the explanation. “But Bow, if that’s what you’re comfortable in, shouldn’t you wear it? If they don’t want you there as _you_ , then they don’t deserve you.” She looked down at her hands, clenched together in her lap and realised that she could, probably, stand to take some of her own advice one day. Biting her lip firmly, she glanced back up to Bow, who had turned fully towards her and was wobbling his own lips, watery eyes staring at her.

“Catra-“ he warbled, “that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” And he caught her in a firm embrace, squeezing her ribs tight until she squeaked with discomfort. 

“Ok, ok. Off!” she commanded, pushing her gloved hand into his head to prise herself from his grip. Smiling, he let her go and, with a brief look in the mirror, he ripped off his cummerbund to reveal his bare toned stomach to the world, lilac shirt and black bowtie underneath his white jacket. That was more like Bow. 

They left his room, his eyes dry and her ribs intact, to meet the princesses in the foyer. Standing just inside the doors, with the surrounding guards surreptitiously not paying attention, Catra began to feel self-conscious, pulling on her rolled sleeves in agitation and retracting and extending her claws rhythmically. 

She heard a throat clear over her shoulder and they both turned to see the duo arriving. Glimmer looked pretty in her violet dress matching Bow’s shirt, its darker purple ruffled skirt flowing out to her knees in a plume. Her lilac bustier was decorated with pink crossover straps over her shoulders and she was wearing white gloves and boots to tie off the outfit. Catra had to reach over and close Bow’s mouth as it dropped open, noticing the pretty flush on Glimmer’s cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes, mirrored in her hair. 

Glimmer stepped forwards to Bow and, cheeks now crimson in colour, presented him with a lapel chain for his jacket, the clasps shaped like crescent moons and sparkling in the foyer lights. Bow clipped it on, a devoted smile on his face as he tenderly looked down to Glimmer, whose lips were pouted playfully. 

Turning away from the two _painfully_ in love people before her, Catra looked for Adora and was struck short at the sight of her. She had her arms curled protectively around her middle, uncertain and tentative but the position accentuated her musculature and the sight of her bare arms was a treat for Catra. Her dress was tea length, with a high neck that covered up to her hairline at the back and covered her scar, and made of floating layers of translucent red material. Underneath, there was a tight band covering her chest and stomach, tightly fitting and allowing for a gentle spread at her waistline into the skirt. She was wearing flat sandals and her hair was pinned up with a gold pin. She was worrying her lip with nerves but, to Catra, she looked as stunning as she always did. 

Usually, Adora was a promise of beauty, a crescent moon hidden behind a cloud that needed to be looked at and appreciated, but here (and in her She-ra form) she was the full moon on a clear night: radiant and breath taking. Catra broke out into a wide grin as she could see that her outfit had a similar reaction for Adora and they both reached for each other, smiling all the while.

“Hey Adora,” she whispered to the blonde’s mouth and leant in for a kiss. There was never much height difference between the two of them, Adora standing a few centimetres taller but nothing unmanageable and she never had to stretch far to kiss her. 

Smiling beautifully when they separated, Adora held out her hand for Catra, her gold wing clasp nestled in her palm. “Glimmer told me that people give tokens to their partners for the night. I didn’t have anything to give you but I thought I could lend you this,” she said, her hand shaking minutely at the action. Pausing for a moment, she re-phrased. “I want to lend you this, “ with her cheeks flushing charmingly.

Catra felt her heart do something strange in her chest, leaping wildly and beating faster than when she did her Horde training drills. Adora wanted for things rarely and communicated that want even less often that there was no way Catra was going to refuse her innocent, tentative request. It was moments like these that Catra loved Adora all the more, not only for her beauty but because of her strength. It had taken strength for her to ask Catra to wear her pin, in lieu of an actual suit accompaniment. It had taken her a significant amount of strength to wear her dress, revealing her shoulders and highlighting her body. It had taken so much strength for her to relinquish control over her plans for the evening and take advice from Glimmer. It had to have taken a gargantuan amount of strength for her to leave the sword in her room, condemning her to an evening of silence.

“Of course I will. And afterwards, I want you to have it back,” she replied. Between themselves, they understood the unsaid connotation, that it was something they could share together.

(At a later date, in a different time, this exchange would mean something more, a promise to share each other forever. At a later date, in a different time, Catra would keep the pin and embrace everything that signified, but that would be later.)

Moment shared, and stored in their minds for their future together, they turned back to the others. Bow and Glimmer were standing arm in arm, matching beautifully and poised to leave. They both extended a hand to the pair before them and Catra took Bow’s as Adora took Glimmer’s as they teleported to the ball.

Their spare hands were joined together, as usual. 

\--

The Kingdom of Snows was, as the name suggested, icy and bitterly cold. The light of the overhanging moons shattered through the ice crystals in the air, turning the sky a majestic purple and green colour, dancing with the movement of the ice. The castle was at the top of a winding pathway, seemingly made of ice itself: its walls were smooth and cold, the towering spires jagged at the top and light fracturing through the castle, turning the surroundings into a prism of rainbow colours. 

Inside the castle, in the cavernous ballroom, a hanging crystal chandelier shaped as a snowflake loomed from the roof, casting fractals of light across a bustling dance floor. The long tables lining the edges of the room were full of party food and were positioned below the tall, high arching windows. The whole room was cast in a purplish hue as the murmurs from the dimly lit crowd breathed life into the space. 

At the end of the hall, in a large throne atop a high staircase and dais, sat Princess Frosta, her indigo eyes filled with a Siberian frost and her bluish hair stiff beneath her ice crown. She was dressed in a gown of heavy furs, flanked by her guards with their ice spears and warm fur uniforms. She had a neutral look on her face, as cold and impenetrable as the ice she wielded, seeming impervious and unaffected but looking so small on her throne.

Approaching the throne, the foursome joined the queue waiting to greet their hostess, the forward progress slow. In front of them stood Spinnerrella and Netossa, garbed splendidly in their dresses matching their personalities. Behind them, Perfuma and her partner waited, exchanging pleasant greetings with them all. She gushed to them about their clothes and about the state of Plumeria since the Horde had left. The Heart Blossom’s powers had returned in full, a fact that she was only too happy to demonstrate with a wave of her hand and an appearance of flowers in the foursome’s hair. She was in the midst of telling them about a flying horse eating all of Plumeria’s apples (“Sound familiar Adora?” “Shove it, Catra!”) when they breeched the top of the stairs.

They bowed and curtsied to Princess Frosta and, although it wasn’t out loud, Catra knew Adora was counting the seconds in her head. A quick glance across to her showed the blonde head bowed but her hand made a quick, silent rude gesture to her. She knew that Adora knew what she was thinking and she smirked wickedly. Here was one of the things she loved the most about Adora: under her stringent rules and good nature lay a mischievous streak a mile wide. Unlike her, it had to be dug out of Adora. 

“Revered hostess, we come under the ancient rules of hospitality and bring greetings from Brightmoon. I’m Princess Glimmer and my partner for the ball, Bow the Archer. May I present She-ra, the princess of power and Catra, her partner,” Glimmer greeted, her tone formal and words soft. Frosta stared at them and welcomed them to her home, reiterating the rules of neutrality. 

They descended the staircase and Adora spared a small smile. She’d managed to avoid embarrassing herself and the others so far, but the night was early. She could barely remember the steps to the dances and she could feel people looking at her. Were they judging her because she wasn’t really a princess? Or because she had her arms and shoulders on show? Or did they all know about her _imperfection_?

(All those gathered had heard Glimmer’s greeting and were craning their necks to get a glimpse at the famed warrior princess. They stood in veneration, silently staring at the mythical goddess before them. She seemed like a normal girl, but looks could be deceiving, especially with princesses.)

Fretting about weighted eyes, she snuck her head down to her shoulders, attempting to hide behind Bow’s taller height. Catra gave her a concerned side eye and pulled her gently towards the buffet tables.

“You’ve done really well so far,” she signalled to Adora, difficult to speak and be heard over the background music and murmurs of the crowd. Fortunately, the four gathered could all signal to each other and they gestured to one another, little in jokes and comments. Adora smiled gratefully, pleased that she hadn’t ruined their meeting with the young princess and her hand reached towards the buffet table reflexively for something to keep her occupied. 

Instead of hitting a canape, her hand fell onto someone else’s and she jumped a little in surprise. Turning to the table, she saw the lilac head and red eyes of Entrapta staring back at her, completely unchanged from their previous meeting. She was dressed in the same outfit, oil stains and all, and Adora couldn’t help but admire her strength for being staunchly herself, regardless of the situation. 

“Hello Adora! And friends!” the technical princess cried cheerfully, snatching her gloved hand back from Adora. There was an incongruous imbalance with Entrapta: a cheerful demeanour and hungry pursuit of organic knowledge combined with an inherent dislike of touch. But that was ok, Adora could respect that and wouldn’t touch her if she didn’t want it (see Aunt Casta, she was learning about consent!).

“Hi Entrapta. It’s so good to see you!” Bow said gleefully.

“I see you dressed up for the occasion?” Glimmer smiled, causing Entrapta to pause briefly. 

“Was I supposed to change?” she asked, pulling the invitation out of her pocket and scrolling through it. “It wasn’t mentioned in the invitation.” She pulled her hair close to her, its ends spinning together like a pair of thumbs as she worked through the unsaid words like a complex problem.

“But it was implied, wasn’t it? I don’t get subtext, or people most of the time,” the self deprecating tone shone through Entrapta’s voice as she came to her conclusion. Her face fell a little as she realised that she’d missed another societal clue, adding to her already high toll. Just when she thought it would be ok to start interacting with the other princesses again; just when she thought she could _get_ things. 

Bow and Glimmer looked on sympathetically, voicing their support for Entrapta as the purple haired princess shrunk into her dungarees, eyes on her oil smeared boots. 

“So what? If the invitation wasn’t clear enough, it’s not your fault you didn’t get changed. They should have made the invitation clearer,” Catra dismissed with a wave of her clawed hand. Entrapta looked up to her, garnet eyes sparkling at her reassurance. “If they can accommodate Perfuma with vegetarian food, and Mermista with a kelp bar, they can accommodate you with what you need.”

To Catra and Adora, it was a simple thing. To Bow and Glimmer, it was something they would be happy to help with. To Entrapta, it was as though someone had told her the sky was made of cheese. Accommodation, was that what she needed? Was the answer that simple? She eyed Catra closely, uncertain how to approach the cat-girl who seemed an anomaly. 

But then, the whole group seemed to be an anomaly to her and, perhaps, the anomalies were beginning to outnumber the usual. Approaching their little corner were Perfuma, in her floaty pastel pink gown with a gauzy overlay and Mermista, in her stunning turquoise skirt and navy blue bustier, draped with a gold lined wrap. Behind them trailed their partners, Sea Hawk grinning behind his polished moustache and making Bow’s eyes sparkle with admiration. 

The other princesses were formally introduced to each other, having each met the Brightmoon squad on different occasions. Perfuma was cheerful and delighted at the new people, dark eyes twinkling behind her freckles, Mermista looking on with a smirk with her navy hair piled to one side. Entrapta looked on with speculation, eyes darting back and forth during the conversation, whispering about “social experiment” to herself. 

“So, since you kind of helped with the Sea Gate, everyone’s come back to Salineas, so, you know, thanks or whatever,” Mermista said, the bored tone in her voice barely at odds with the slightest shine of relief in her eyes. 

“That’s amazing, Mermista!” Glimmer cheered and lost Bow to Sea Hawk, both singing merrily in the background. Mermista allowed herself a brief flash of gratitude before she launched into a tirade at Sea Hawk for embarrassing her.

“I don’t get it,” Entrapta said, her voice recorder held in her hair as her brows furrowed in confusion, “is this a thing I’m not getting?”

“Don’t worry, Entrapta, we don’t understand them either,” Perfuma reassured her. “People are confusing and sometimes, we just don’t understand others.”

“Yeah, I don’t get Mermista either,” Catra chimed in and Adora nodded. Entrapta was touched, it meant more to her than they could ever know that sometimes others didn’t understand social intricacies either.

“Perhaps I need to observe the social experiment from further away,” she said, her hair reaching for more canapes as she mused out loud. 

“What about up there?” Catra suggested, pointing up to a balcony above them. From up there, she would be able to see the whole dance floor but she feared that walking away would lose her what little progress she’d made so far with friendship.

Seeing the uncertainty on her face, Perfuma chimed in. “If you want, we can meet up after the prom and talk through any questions you have, Entrapta?” she offered and Mermista gave a little shrug, which was a ringing endorsement for her. Entrapta smiled at the offer; she’d been isolated from the other princesses for so long, somewhat self-induced but somewhat ostracised, that she was touched at the offer of help. An excited grin crossed her face and she dropped her welding mask, a maniacal laugh accompanying her as she climbed the smooth columns with her prehensile hair. The crowd she left behind her smiled indulgently as she left.

Adora continued her rampage on the buffet table as the others chatted quietly, discussing when their first meeting of the Princess Alliance would take place. A ripple of sound echoed through the crowd and caught their attentions, Glimmer subtly nudged Adora to direct her away from the snacks. At the base of the staircase leading to Frosta’s throne stood two unusual people.

The first was one they recognised from the siege on Salineas, a tall Scorpioni woman with a sleek black dress and polished red jewels in her ears and around her waist. The second was one that Adora and Catra knew all too well, causing Adora to drop her small porcelain plate to the ground, where it smashed into thousands of pieces, and Catra’s fur to stand on end. 

Octavia.

She was dressed in her Horde dress uniform, black fabric with red piping, her shoulders capped with gold epaulets and her tentacles drifting lazily behind her. Her piercing amber eye was staring straight at them, despite them being off to one side from the throne and, for a moment, the pair were young cadets again, quaking under the glare of the cruel Force Captain. Adora thought if she pushed her tongue up in her mouth she would surely feel the gap in her front teeth that had accompanied her through her childhood.

Although the Horde pair ascended the stairs in silence, the uncomfortable murmurs drifted through the crowd around them, providing a whispering backdrop to their arrival. The Scorpioni woman seemed discomforted by the voices but Octavia’s stony expression was marred solely by her glare at the Horde defectors. They went through the traditional greetings with Frosta as the Alliance members watched in horror.

“What are the Horde doing here?” Bow asked, his eyes wide. Adora had turned to Catra in aghast terror at their arrival, her blue eyes wide and trembling. 

“Catra, what’s she doing here?” she whisper shouted, the overt rage in her eyes being mirrored by the abject fear in Catra’s. Catra’s ears had perked up, ramrod straight at the attendance of one of her personal tormentors and she shook her head with confusion. 

“I don’t know.”

(Octavia had earned Catra’s fear, having cornered her one evening after a private practice session. Catra, being Catra and the only method of conflict resolution she had known had been to hit harder, had answered Octavia’s scathing questions with venom, the argument quickly turning physical as the elder threw punches and the younger unsheathed her claws. Catra had left the disagreement with a notch in her ear and a limp in her step. Octavia had left without an eye.

Octavia had earned Adora’s rage, having caught Catra in her skinny arms when she collapsed on their bunk after her altercation with Octavia. She’d seen the cuts and bruises to Catra’s malnourished body, the bleeding divot cut from her ear and she burned with impotence, burned with helplessness, burned with fury. She had promised herself that no one would harm Catra like that again and that Octavia would hurt for her crimes.)

“Well, that’s Scorpia,” came Entrapta’s voice from above their heads and they all looked to the technological princess. She was the only one in their group who would have been old enough to have interacted with the Scorpioni princess before she had isolated herself. She looked down to see herself as the centre of attention and her face lit up at the others. “Scorpia, princess of the Scorpioni Kingdom? What the Fright Zone used to be called before Hordak took it over?” she said, sounding her words slowly as though she were explaining a difficult equation to someone. The blank looks she got in return had her giving an impromptu history lesson to them all.

“Ok, well, who’s that with her then?” Mermista drawled and Entrapta shrugged. 

“I don’t know who she is.”

“That’s Octavia,” Catra bristled as Adora fumed behind her. Since the pair’s arrival, she’d turned to Adora and embraced her hand. Partly to prevent Adora from leaping on the Force Captain in unbridled rage, partly to remind herself that she was there and partly for Catra’s own comfort. Because, looking at that unwavering amber eye made her feel eight years old again and so much smaller. 

“Who’s Octavia?” Glimmer asked and Catra explained, it taking all her mental strength to phrase her words carefully. Much of her physical strength was being used to keep Adora grounded, their joined hands becoming white with the force of their grips. As she divulged their history together, the faces of gathered princesses thundered, fearsome scowls appearing. Entrapta had slid back down from her perch to awkwardly pat Catra and Adora on the head with her hair (the gesture meaning so much from someone who shied away from touching), Mermista’s lips pinched in anger and Perfuma frowned (the highest exclamation of displeasure from her). 

Glimmer was pulling off her gloves and appeared ready to throw down, Bow catching her around the middle. He knew it would be futile if she chose to teleport away but he tried anyway. 

“Guys, Princess Prom is neutral and Scorpia is a princess. Perhaps they’re just here to celebrate?” he said, always trying to be the mediator. He signed along, wanting to get Adora involved with the discussion so that she wouldn’t just fume in the corner.

“Scorpia might be but I guarantee Octavia isn’t here to enjoy the canapes,” the blonde muttered angrily. To Catra, who had always known that the blonde was capable of deep and furious emotions, her display of anger wasn’t too surprising (a little touching and very pretty but not surprising). To the others, with whom Adora had been shy, brave and righteous, the anger probably seemed misplaced.

“Well, we can keep an eye on them but let’s try to enjoy ourselves as well!” Perfuma said, “I mean, it’s a neutral event so they won’t have any weapons on them.”

“Yeah. Frosta’s organised a kelp bar as well that we wanted to check out,” Mermista muttered, to Sea Hawk’s reprisal of “adventure!”

“I can watch them from up on the balcony and message you if anything happens?” Entrapta said tentatively, indicating to Bow and his omnipresent pad. 

“Entrapta, that’s a brilliant idea!” Glimmer crowed, punching the air. “You keep an eye from the balcony and we’ll watch for anything down here.” Grabbing Bow by his hand, she pulled him towards the other side of the dance floor, closer to the Octavia. The Horde pair had split apart with Octavia marching off to one side and Scorpia was left, looking lost in the midst of the crowd. Mermista had wandered to the kelp bar and Perfuma had abandoned her partner to cross over towards Scorpia with a predatory look in her dark eyes. 

Catra and Adora watched, a mixture of horror and glee as Perfuma stalked closer to the white haired woman. Exchanging a brief look, they burst into laughter with incredulity. They stared as the foamy blonde woman gently and kindly looked up to Scorpia, face friendly and open. Scorpia, for her part, looked gobsmacked that she was voluntarily being spoken to and it was a look that Catra was initimately familiar with. It was one that she wore daily when in the Horde, surprised every day when Adora still wanted to interact with her.

If there was one thing that the Horde was good at breeding, it was uncertainty. If Perfuma could help someone with that, especially someone who seemed so genuine and lost, well, surely that was a good thing?

Having sheepishly brushed the broken plate shards under the tablecloth with her foot, Adora had grabbed another one and was steadily filling it with a selection of canapes. Stealing some off her plate, Catra nibbled on a pastry that tasted of something green and fresh. What was that?

“Snow peas,” came a voice from her elbow. Looking down, she saw Frosta standing there, her eyebrows raised in a mercurial expression. Adora hadn’t turned at the princess’ voice and Catra could see the ice princess’ eyes darkening at the perceived slight. 

“Thank you, I was wondering what they were,” Catra said, trying to mimic Glimmer’s lofty tone. She tapped Adora’s elbow, drawing her attention to her and, after pausing briefly to snicker at the blonde’s chipmunk cheeks, she explained what Frosta had said, signalling alongside her words. Adora’s eyes lit up and she tried a pastry.

“I like peas, right?” she said, taking a bite. Teasing, Catra shook her head and watched as Adora registered what was in her mouth and attempted to spit out the contents. 

“Careful, Adora. Polite company, remember?” With a face like she was trying to swallow a lemon, Adora finished chewing and reluctantly swallowed the pea pastry in her mouth, immediately sticking her tongue out when she was finished. Frosta looked on in bemusement at their antics, seeming a little disapproving.

“Your kingdom is truly beautiful, Princess Frosta,” Adora said, smiling gently, “I’m honoured to be here.”

“Thank you,” Frosta said, looking out to the gathered people. “I expect you’re going to ask me to join your Rebellion?” She paused for a moment, but there was no reply yielded from the blonde. When she looked back, she saw that Catra was gesturing to Adora, who was nodding.

“What are you doing?” Frosta asked curiously.

“Ah, Adora’s deaf so she can’t hear anything,” Catra explained as Adora stood silently next to her. As she said this, her hands moved in synchrony, allowing Adora to follow the conversation. For her part, Adora seemed happy to watch Catra explain on her behalf, munching on another canape with a contented smile. “The hand gestures are one of the ways we talk,” Catra finished up explaining to the young princess. 

Frosta was struck short, watching the two older girls before her. Here was a princess, granted an honorary one but a princess all the same, who had undoubtedly struggled to gain respect from others and fought to be taken seriously. Frosta had been ruling her kingdom for many years but was still viewed by many as a child, incompetent and incapable. But perhaps, here were some that she could relate to, others who had fought for an ounce of respect. 

Leaning forwards, Frosta asked questions to Catra about how the signals worked, her eyes lighting with curiosity and childlike wonder. Catra was in the midst of explaining when the lights dimmed and the music heightened. 

The first dance of the evening was upon them. Catra looked back to Adora over her shoulder, her brow cocked in question and Adora nodded. She was feeling brave enough right now to try and Catra was going to embrace it with her. 

Frosta returned to her throne, having to oversee the first dance but spared a kind backwards glance at the two she was leaving, something kindling in her close to friendship but nearer to want. Catra led Adora to the floor, where they stood facing each other. One hand behind their backs with the other clasped together, they waited for the starting note. Well, Catra did; Adora waited for Catra’s cue. 

The two rocked back and forth with the rhythm, Adora following Catra’s lead as they circled each other. They stared into each other’s eyes, Catra’s sparkling with happiness as Adora’s face broke into a wide smile. It was nice, just being able to enjoy each other like this, to swirl around and get lost in the other. It was almost like there was no one else in the world.

But then, the moment ended and it was time to switch partners. This was the other part that Adora had been dreading; with Catra she could keep pace and rhythm but someone else might do something off script. She twirled into Glimmer, who smiled up at her and she remembered her quick crash course in dancing. Bow had been passed off to Catra, who was cackling madly as she dipped him deeply. 

Adora’s next partner was Perfuma, who dreamily wondered where Scorpia had disappeared to as she hadn’t been seen on the dance floor since they started. Using the extra height afforded to her as Adora lifted her in the air, the plant princess couldn’t even see Scorpia’s white-hair. 

\--

Glimmer twirled into Catra as they changed partners, dancing around each other with skill and competence. Glimmer tried to dip Catra, as she had done to Bow but she struggled under the taller girl’s weight. Catra laughed uproariously at her red face. “Are you implying I’m overweight, Sparkles?”

“Well, if the shoe fits, Horde Scum,” she snarked back, smiling wickedly. Catra was about to respond when she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

“Speaking of Horde scum,” she said, her eyes firmly fixed on the broad retreating back of Scorpia, who was making her way up a hidden staircase to the upper floor. Glimmer glanced over to her as well and they both peeled away from the dance floor to follow her. 

On the upper floor, they peeked around the corner and could see Scorpia removing the red gems from her belt and attaching them to the palace’s pillars. They must have been some form of heat bombs. Glancing at the other, they felt the urgency to go down stairs and tell the others what they just saw but, something hard hit them both in the head, sending them crashing to the ground. Glimmer passed out immediately, a small trickle of blood wending down her forehead but Catra kept her eyes open for a brief moment. She saw Scorpia approaching her with seemingly kind dark eyes before her own drifted shut.

\--

Her newest partner had her stopping dead and forgetting her steps. Octavia maliciously grinned down at her, holding her hand and her waist as she burned with anger and pain. 

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Adora, the idiot,” she said meanly, her lips curling with distaste as she made sure her words were easily read by the deaf blonde. Adora’s heart sunk even further at the words, there being no fondness behind the term like the was when Catra said it to her; it was said with venom. She began to feel unwell as she was spun back and forth in Octavia’s grasp, her sharp thin nails digging in to Adora’s hand. 

She wanted to stop dancing now, or go back to Catra, but she could barely get her wits about her. Dizzily looking up, she couldn’t find Catra anywhere and her heart leapt into her throat. She had last seen Catra with Glimmer, when she was with Perfuma, but she’d lost track after that. She spun back into Octavia, hands held firmly as she stared into her face with loathing. 

“Where is she?” Adora asked, certain that Octavia had done something.

“How should I know? I’ve been dancing with you,” came the sneering reply. She leaned down, stopping their movement until they were stationary in the middle of the twirling dancers. Coming mere inches from Adora, she made sure that her every poisonous word was understood by the blonde. 

“But, if I did have her, I would rip out her eyes slowly after pulling out her wretched claws one by one to get my revenge from all those years ago.”

For one breathless moment, she felt a pulse in time with her heart throughout her entire body as a curtain of red fell over Adora’s eyes. The rage she had carefully cultivated over years, smouldering and stoking it to full intensity overwhelmed her, consuming her from the inside out and making her burn with fury. She could easily reach forward and rip out Octavia’s throat, or gouge out her remaining eye, anything to make her hurt.

But, in that exact moment, three things happened. Firstly, Octavia spun her outwards, letting her hand loose and making her go crashing into one of the ice pillars surrounding the hall, her shoulder felt as though it was splintering under the force and knocking her head soundly. Secondly, Adora felt a thrum through the earth as it vibrated with intensity, ice crystals falling from the ceiling as, unheard by her, a loud explosion echoed through the chamber. Thirdly, everyone else on the dance floor scattered following the rumbling explosion, making Adora’s crash landing go unnoticed. The ball room erupted in cacophony as the party guests stumbled for the exits, abandoning their merriment.

The ceiling trembled and threatened to collapse as everyone was rushing for the door, Frosta leapt forwards off her throne to the floor, pulling on her connection to the Ice Crystal, her runestone, to reinforce the structural integrity of the castle walls and prevent further collapse. To rebuild, she would need direct contact with her runestone but, for now, this should be enough to prevent further damage. 

Adora stumbled to her feet, groggily turning her head to search for someone, anyone. She was alone, without the ability to turn into She-ra and disoriented. In the silence of her world, she looked around, peering through the fog and smoke to try and find one of her friends. Or Catra. Through the haze of her vision, she didn’t see a distinctive cat tail or ears but she did see the oceanic tendrils of Octavia slipping away. 

Following her on stumbling feet, she crashed into the corridor to make chase but was met with a sharp fist to her face. Blinking through the pain and feeling her nose bleeding onto her lip, she looked up into the eye of Octavia, smirking widely as she pulled back for a second punch. Her fist was halted though by a vine wrapping around her arm, restraining her. 

Rushing around her were Perfuma, Mermista, Entrapta and Bow, protecting her from further attacks. Cutting her way out of Perfuma’s binds, Octavia back up, her eye remaining locked on Adora who stared at her with watery eyes. 

“It’s alright. We got what we needed,” she said and she backed her way out of the door into the wintery night. Everyone shared a confused glance at her words, unclear what had been taken and Adora had a heartfelt rush of concern. She scrabbled to her feet, sandals slipping on the icy ground as she chased Octavia. 

Breeching the doors, she was met by the whirring blades of a Horde airship, it’s front window facing her as she looked on. In the main bay were Octavia, smiling evilly at her, Scorpia, appearing a little regretful, and two others that made her breath catch and her brain stop.

Glimmer was being propped up, unconscious with a dried stream of blood on her temple, her beautiful ball gown ripped and torn but it was the other who drew Adora’s attention. 

Catra was draped on the steel floor, limbs sprawled wide in a manner so unlike her and face turned away. Her stunning suit seemed askew and her tail was motionless. Adora couldn’t see if she was alright, all she could see was her form on the ship. That was steadily flying away.

Catra was being taken away from her.

_Catra_ was being taken away from her.

Catra was being taken _away_ from her.

Catra was being taken away from _her_.

And she was powerless to stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> BYB x


	9. No Princess Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usually, this anger was directed towards herself, a perpetual barrage of hatred battering inside her behind her soft smiles, punishing her for her uselessness but, she knew if she was ever given the opportunity, she’d have Octavia’s other eye in a heartbeat as the one other person to earn her anger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I am completely overwhelmed by your kind comments and kudos! Sorry for the longer wait for this chapter: I've been on nights :(

Catra had been taken away from her. 

That singular thought echoed around her mind in a reverberating drumbeat, spiralling louder and louder with every circle. Every second compounded the overwhelming fear in her chest, crushing her heart and squeezing her lungs. She felt as though she was drowning, bubbles leaving her mouth in frustrated distress and her eyes blurred with the water she was treading. She forgot how to breathe, how to feel, how to think.

She knew, in some distant manner, that someone was hugging her shoulders close. She knew, in some distant manner, that she’d collapsed to the icy walkway in a distraught heap. And, she knew, in a very intimate manner, that Catra had been taken away from her.

Catra had been taken away from her.

She was levered to her feet, by who, she didn’t know, as her eyes became as useless as her ears. Her vision was blurred and fuzzy as she looked down to the floor and her ruined dress. Her dress was a mess of water stains and blood, her hair was a mess of strands and her ponytail had fallen to pieces and her mind was a mess of feelings.

She didn’t know how they got back to Brightmoon, she had vague recollection of being bundled into an airship with Mermista and an uncharacteristically silent Sea Hawk, but she remembered nothing for sure on the journey home. The next conscious thought she had after Catra was taken from her was when she was laid on her bed, facing the indent that Catra usually slept in and felt her world crash down. 

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she stared at the empty space, soundless in her cries of anguish. Her hands were fisted in front of her face, partially blocking the view of the empty, empty, _empty_ space and she screwed her eyes shut to avoid the sight of Catra missing. Part of her felt like she was a child again: if she couldn’t see it, it wasn’t there. Her hands were pristine, unblemished as she hadn’t even managed to throw a blow during the Horde’s attack on the prom, let alone land one and her uselessness was building on her guilt for letting Catra and Glimmer get captured. 

She was always doing this; ever since they’d left the Horde, all she’d done was be a burden to everybody. She was She-ra and she couldn’t even stop Octavia from capturing Catra; what kind of hero of the people was she? Octavia was right, she really was an idiot and she couldn’t do anything to help anyone either. Her hands drifted towards her temples, pulling at the hair there in an attempt to push her feelings out. She couldn’t cope. She couldn’t manage this.

She needed Catra. 

Hands gently folded around hers, the strands of blonde hair tangled between their fingers. They gently pulled her hair from her fingers and held her useless, impotent hands cradled ever so softly. Opening her eyes, she was met with the blurry image of Bow before her, silently holding her hands like he was cupping something precious, his eyes dark and soft and oh so sad. Adora’s heart crushed with the double blow. He was a poor parody of Catra, occupying the space she’d left but he’d also lost Glimmer as she’d lost Catra and they were both hurting. She didn’t know how to comfort him, she was adrift at sea as her eyes continued to stream with tears, mirroring Bow’s.

She wasn’t used to comforting people, her skills limited to Catra and, from there, she devolved into a “punch your feelings out” support. She wasn’t like Bow; she wasn’t good at knowing what people needed or building people up. How could she support anyone when she was crumbling as well?

Her hopeless eyes stared into Bow’s teary ones and she opened her mouth to make an attempt but she was shushed by Bow popping a finger to her lips, his eyes remaining soft and sad.

“It’s ok,” he whispered, “we’ll get through it. Together.” 

And, in the dawning light of Brightmoon, they laid wrapped in each other, silently mourning their losses. Later, they would pull themselves together, present a united front and formulate a plan to get Catra and Glimmer back but, for now, they allowed themselves to shatter and break and grieve in silence.

\--

Catra’s eyes cracked open with a reverberating thumping in her head. There was a high-pitched whine in her ears that made her fur stand on end uncomfortably as she struggled to orient herself. She cast her gaze around the room, blurry vision taking a moment to focus, but as soon as the room sharpened with frightening clarity, her heart rate jumped from sedate to frantic in a second.

It took her mere moments to recognise where she was, her amber and blue eyes falling on the steam vents in the wall, passing over the oppressive pipes overhead, to land with horror on the looming runestone slumbering in the opposite corner.

The Black Garnet.

With her heart skipping beats, she rushed upright, pushing herself against the metal floor with urgency as her brain caught her up on what had happened. Princess Prom. Octavia. Hit to the head. 

Scanning the room, she saw Glimmer chained in another corner, her ball dress torn and dirty with her wrists bound to two upstanding metal poles, surrounded by a ring of malicious red energy. She was kneeling on the floor with her arms stretched, her head lolling to one side in unconsciousness. A small stream of blood had travelled down her forehead forming a crusted layer in her left ear and matting her hair together. 

Other than the small cut on her forehead, she seemed unharmed but she was unresponsive. 

Glancing down at herself, Catra could see that her suit was muddied and bedraggled, with rips in the fabric. She could feel her head pounding with every beat of her heart and her eyes kept losing focus, making her struggle to sharpen her gaze. She was chained to the ground, tight manacles around her wrists and she could feel a compressive band around her neck, constricting her breathing with every inhale.

Someone had collared her. 

Trailing from the collar was a sturdy metal chain, connecting her to the ground at a third point. Technically, it was less restraining than her wrist restraints but she could feel the world closing in on her with every brush of her breath against the metal at her throat. Someone had the audacity to collar her, like an animal, and leash her to the ground, leaving her unable to stand. She was left crouching awkwardly or kneeling, leaving her subservient to whoever walked through the door and it rankled her.

There were many people who had made her feel less than human during her life; growing up in the Horde, she had suffered many comments that referred to her as “Adora’s pet”. The incident with Octavia came about because the older woman had hissed at her to “heel like a trained animal”. She’d pounced on her, scratching her cold amber eye out and had received a lifelong scar to her ear as a result. As a reminder. 

But there was one who drove the others, gave them impetus to ostracise her. It started as a way to distance her from Adora, but the blonde was too stubborn to leave her despite what other people and Catra herself said or did. Adora had grown up being pushed away by Catra herself and pulled away by others, their sneering looks painting her with the same brush that Catra was tarred with. To try and protect her from Catra’s reputation, she had hissed out in self-defence and scratched the blonde across the bridge of her nose, causing confused tears to gather in her blue eyes.

(Kitten kisses, Adora had called them over the years, never begrudging her for lashing out, never hating her for her aggression. Catra knew she didn’t deserve Adora, she had never deserved her. She had never needed anyone else to point that out to her.)

Her eyes snapped to the door as it slid open, a surge in the shadows swelling and heralding the arrival of her personal tormentor. Shadow Weaver glided into the chamber, the ground zero of her abuse. Shadow Weaver had been the one to try and push her from Adora, the sorceress’ pet, and others had followed suite, detecting her hatred and acting on it. There were few things in the Horde that didn’t result in demerits and punishment and making her life difficult was one of those things. 

The red robes of the sorceress brushed against the metal floor, the fragment of the Black Garnet glinting malignantly in the half-light of the room from her masked face. She didn’t even move her head in Catra’s direction, bypassing her completely and focussing on the Brightmoon princess before her. Catra’s eyes were wide, her ears flat against her head as Shadow Weaver passed before her, feeling the cold darkness of her floating hair causing her tail to fluff up in fright. 

Her thin hand cupped Glimmer’s caramel cheek and patted it with a gentleness that Catra knew belied her nature. Glimmer groaned softly, her lavender eyes fluttering open and she looked groggily upwards, staring straight into Shadow Weaver’s cruel mask.

“Welcome to the Fright Zone, Princess,” she purred, the smirk in her voice audible in her tone. Glimmer recognised Shadow Weaver from her encounter in Mystacor and her eyes widened in surprise and impotent anger. 

“Get away from her!” Catra growled, not wanting to draw Shadow Weaver’s attention but also not wanting it on Glimmer. The mask that haunted her nightmares turned to her and she knew that the electric eyes behind it were narrowed in anger. 

“Be silent, mongrel!” she hissed, curling her fingers menacingly and causing an arc of electricity to dance across the ground, running up her metallic chains and paralysing her when it came in contact with her skin. She whimpered at the pain, her jaw clamping shut at the sensation and her eyes filling with tears as it brought back vivid memories of Shadow Weaver’s abuse growing up. 

“Leave her alone!” Glimmer yelled, pulling at her mystical restraints firmly, and trying to teleport from the bindings. But, when she should have disappeared in a twinkle of glitter, she collapsed into herself in pain, glitching dangerously.

“Hmm, it seems that your powers don’t react well with the Black Garnet,” Shadow Weaver mused, her tone purring around the words insidiously. She bent forwards and patted Glimmer condescendingly on her head. “Don’t worry, princess. In a few hours, Queen Angella and Adora will be here and you can leave.”

Ice cascaded down Catra’s spine at the words. Firstly, her release wasn’t mentioned and she knew what was in store for her if Shadow Weaver kept her in her grasp and secondly, she knew what would happen if she got Adora back in her hands. 

(They had spent years trying to undo the damage Shadow Weaver had wrought on each other. Catra still suffered spasms from the physical abuse and crushing self-worth issues which Adora had painstakingly tried to resolve, reassuring with her words and presence and supporting her when her limbs spasmed. 

Adora had been groomed from childhood to be subservient and obedient, her own wants and needs squashed under years of emotional abuse. It had taken Catra years to come to terms with the fact that Adora wasn’t favoured, she was abused, but once she’d accepted it, she tried to open Adora’s eyes to her own desires. It was made even more difficult when presented with the frayed patchwork that was Adora's memories, her entire self had been unravelled so many times that they weren't sure what was her and what was _her_ anymore.)

She knew that if Adora didn’t come, she would be killed and, as she thought about it, she accepted that she’d be ok with that. As long as Adora was safe. 

(But she knew that Adora wouldn’t manage without her. Not in an egotistical way, but with the certainty of someone desperately in love with another person; there was no living with Adora and she knew that Adora felt the same, just like she knew the sky was blue.)

She knew that if Adora did come to rescue her, Adora would be lost to Shadow Weaver’s machinations and she would be killed.

She couldn’t see a way out of this and she despaired inside. 

\--

The War Room was uncharacteristically silent. Usually, when meetings took place here, they started and ended with Angella and Glimmer clashing, two vibrant personalities battling for dominance. Usually, the others watched in silent amusement as they argued fondly back and forth, almost bantering with their disagreements. Usually, the table was sparsely filled with people, the majority of seats empty.

Today, the conference table was filled more than usual, the newly recruited members of the Princess Alliance filling their seats, including Frosta who had joined them after reinforcing her castle and taking the Horde attack as a personal affront (“Neutral? They attacked my palace and my ball! There’s no more “neutral” now! Now, it’s personal!”). 

Today, there were no glances of fond amusement at the table. Mermista was sat in her chair, posture straight and eyes alert with Sea Hawk at her shoulder, his eyes flinty and sharp. Perfuma had her arms folded on the table, her usually approachable countenance thundering. Entrapta was silent in her chair, looking at her hands as her hair fiddled with its ends, uncertain on where to look and what to say, her pad laid flat on the table before her. Frosta was perched grimly in her seat, eyes are cold as the barren wastes of her kingdom and mouth firmly set. Spinnerella and Netossa were in their usual places but sat straight in their own chairs, their hands held beneath the table in contrast to their normal symbiotic sprawl. They had all changed into their less formal clothes, Mermista retrieving her trident from somewhere, and seemed ready to take on the Horde for their lost friends. They were ready for their first Princess Alliance mission.

Today, Angella was silent, her angelic head held in her hands as she grieved silently. Her daughter, her last piece of Micah, was in the Fright Zone, captured by the Horde. She knew she had no one to blame but herself but she couldn’t help the flash of anger at the others gathered at the table. Why had Glimmer been taken and not them? What were they doing when she was taken?

She knew it wasn’t fair of her to think that, and a brief look to Adora and Bow multiplied her guilt at the thought, regardless of how fleeting. They both appeared exhausted and traumatised, purple bags beneath Adora’s eyes and Bow’s characteristic smile missing. 

In the centre of the table was a letter penned from Hordak himself: demanding Angella and Adora surrender to the Horde in exchange for Glimmer. Catra’s name hadn’t been specified and it made Adora fear greatly for her partner’s wellbeing. As the commander for the Rebellion, the decision was easy: Angella couldn’t sacrifice herself in exchange for one of her troops. As a mother, the decision was so much more difficult. 

Faced with the opposing demands of her role, commander and mother, she could feel herself being torn and cleaved in half and she was cracking. A solitary tear ran down her cheek, soon to be followed by another, and another and then the torrent had been unleashed. 

An uncomfortable stutter waved around the room at the sight of the usually strong, formidable queen collapsing in tears, the others silent in mourning. The members of the re-forged Princess Alliance were more than a utilitarian force for Etheria; they were friends, they understood each other, they cared for one another. The Horde’s actions were an affront to the Rebellion and the Princess Alliance and they were determined to rectify this. 

Mermista shared a careful look with Perfuma and Entrapta. They knew that one of their best strategists, Catra, was one of the captured parties and they were lacking her tactical insight in the retrieval planning. The others who excelled at this sort of thing were too emotionally compromised to contribute right now. Angella had moved her head to her gloved hands as she cradled her tearful face, eyes screwed shut. Now that the torrent of tears had been unleashed, there seemed to be no end to them as she scrabbled to find purchase in the sea of grief. Adora, who also excelled at planning, was staring into the middle distance, a haunted look in her tired eyes. She seemed not to notice that Bow had her hand in a death grip as she blankly stared at the windows opposite her.

“Your majesty, with all due respect,” Mermista carefully said, not wanting to offend anyone, “would you be amenable to a rescue mission to retrieve Glimmer and Catra?” Angella looked up to the oceanic princess, seemingly realising that there was a third option beyond leaving them there or sacrificing herself.

“Agreed, your highness,” Perfuma gently intoned, supporting Mermista, “and with She-ra, I’m sure we could co-ordinate a working plan for their retrieval.”

Entrapta nodded in agreement and Angella’s eyes sparkled at the thought of a rescue. She nodded her approval.

“Then please allow us to use this room for our planning session. Your majesty, I believe you may benefit from some rest,” Frosta said, her voice a shade warmer than icy. This was an opportunity to give Angella a way out of the planning, knowing she was greatly emotionally compromised by the disappearance of Glimmer. The queen stood and excused herself, a flurry of white wings and water droplets following her out the door. 

The large doors slamming shut behind her created a gust of air that seemed to jolt Adora from her reverie, who blinked a little in surprise, reddened eyes snapping into focus for the first time. 

“Where’d Angella go?” she asked, her voice quiet and lost. After they explained to her what had happened and that they were going to come up with a rescue plan, her face fell a little. “Catra’s the better one at planning,” she said, bemoaning her absence. Her capture was like a gaping wound in her chest, pulsatile and aching and all she could do was despair. Bow stared at her helplessly, wanting to help but acutely feeling Glimmer’s absence as a missing limb, he felt unprepared and unable to support anyone, even himself. 

“Adora, we know you miss Catra and you feel lost,” Perfuma said, her voice soft and empathetic, “but we need to focus to come up with a plan to rescue her and Glimmer.”

“Yeah, Adora,” Mermista chimed in, “we know you can plan things well. We need you on form today.” She paused, her eyes flashing with sadness and ire combined. “You’re not the only one who is missing them.” 

And it registered then that the people sitting around the table were sitting there for a reason. They weren’t at the meeting out of some sort of obligation or political show of support, they were there because they cared. Each person sat down had come to cherish Catra and Glimmer and they wanted to help. Mermista appreciated Catra’s blunt honesty and cutting barbs, Sea Hawk adored Glimmer’s empathy and wild streak. Perfuma loved Catra’s willingness to stand up for her beliefs, Entrapta took Glimmer’s support for her friends as her impetus to try again. Frosta respected Catra for treating her as an adult, Spinnerella and Netossa cared for Glimmer as their own family.

And Adora and Bow _loved_ them fiercely.

They were all hurting from their capture, yes, some more than others, but that didn’t diminish how much everyone was impacted by the loss. It didn’t minimise how much one of them was hurt just because someone else seemed to care more. Bow’s eyes shone with tears as he saw the support network that had formed, the new Princess Alliance built on the foundations of empathy and friendship, and knew that Glimmer would be so pleased. He was proud of what he helped create and he knew they were building something grand.

Adora sat in shock at the realisation. In the Horde, no one had openly cared for anyone else; Adora and Catra were abnormal in their open affection for one another. Throughout their childhood, they had been met with overt distaste and hostility that it was unusual to be welcomed so thoroughly. Catra had been ostracised for her cat-like tendencies and quick temper and Adora had been isolated more efficiently than her hearing loss had ever managed thanks to Shadow Weaver’s tender attentions that they became wholly dependent on each other. They were the only ones who tolerated, cared and loved the other growing up.

But now, now was different. There was a room full of people who tolerated them, cared for them and loved them to the extent that they were planning a retrieval mission for them. There was a room full of people who were willing to walk into the Fright Zone for them, knowing the risks. 

And, although Adora had known that Catra would do the same for her, known it in her bones and her soul, and she’d hoped that Bow and Glimmer would do so, she had never dreamed that the gathered princesses would as well.

It lit a fire in her breast, warming her from the inside and drawing her from her grieving fugue. She felt emboldened by their care, bolstered by their love, to the point where she began to consider that she _might_ actually be able to do this without Catra. She would, instead, be doing this _for_ her. She stoked that fire, transforming it from a tender spark into a raging inferno, throwing all her messy feelings and thoughts into it until it burned. Until she was left with nothing but determination and anger. 

How dare they take Catra from her? How dare they take Glimmer from her? How dare they? Underneath everything, under Adora’s kindness, under her righteousness, under her goodness, was a possessive streak that ran hot and wide. What was hers was hers and _no one_ would take that away from her. Not Hordak, not Shadow Weaver and, certainly, not that one eyed tentacled monster who haunted her nightmares.

She burned with the need to get them back, her wildfire anger growing and growing, eclipsing any previously cultivated feelings towards the Horde. Gone was her love for Shadow Weaver. Gone was her fear of Hordak. Gone was her reluctance to return to the Fright Zone.

(Two emotions forever remained, ingrained into Adora’s bones with certainty. First was her love for Catra, warm and filling, satiating her completely. Second was her burning rage, roiling within her as a furious ball of anger. Her anger was slow burning, dissimilar to Catra’s and it often caught people by surprise to know the extent of her fury. Catra was a flashfire, burning hard and fast, impressive to those watching and intimidating for those in the firing line but burned fast and quick. Her anger was more akin to a bushfire: slow burning and long, difficult to extinguish and unselective in its targets. She hid it well behind a thin veneer of congeniality until it was unleashed, often shocking those watching that she was raging behind her terse smile. 

She’d grown this bushfire over many years, nursing it fully until it raged across her mind. She’d fed it for years with her impotence, her self-directed rage and it had built upon itself, burning to extreme heights. She was a ball of confused feelings most days, needing Catra to sort out what she felt or some form of physical activity to get to the bottom of her messy thoughts but with her anger she was always crystal clear. Usually, this anger was directed towards herself, a perpetual barrage of hatred battering inside her behind her soft smiles, punishing her for her uselessness but, she knew if she was ever given the opportunity, she’d have Octavia’s other eye in a heartbeat as the one other person to earn her anger.)

All that remained were the smouldering embers of fortitude and determination to get them back. If she razed the Horde in the process, it was a necessary sacrifice in the bushfire of her rage.

\--

If Catra in the midst of planning a military operation was cunning and sly, tailoring her arguments and speech style to the person she was addressing, then Adora was straight forward and convincing through sheer magnetic personality and driving force. Adora commanded the attention of the room easily, her bright smile and powerful voice filling the space, and for the first time since Bow had met her, it wasn’t due inadvertent due to volume control but entirely deliberate. 

It seemed as though a switch had been flipped in Adora as she found her drive and willpower, her determination to succeed infecting the others at the table. Bow watched as she poured over battle strategies, making use of the holographic map in the middle of the table, her charisma permeating to the other princesses. Entrapta had gotten her hands and hair on the controls for the hologram and had programmed it so that they each had representative avatars on the field, earning herself a joyful cheer from Perfuma, a pleased smirk from Mermista and a crow of triumph from Frosta. 

As they were discussing their strengths and weaknesses, talents they all brought, Adora was taking it in with furious intensity, her eyes laser focussed on the speaker as she made notes on her pad. The new addition of Frosta to the Princess Alliance contributed significant offensive power but, like Mermista, she would have her powers limited in the arid landscape of the Fright Zone. Adora pulled up a schematic of the Fright Zone, altering the Rebellion’s outdated ones.

Bow stared at the holographic image of the Fright Zone, contemplating the distance they had to travel and feeling Glimmer’s loss acutely, like a missing limb. He knew that Adora was feeling the same, but she seemed to have transformed her despair into drive and used her pain as an impetus to move forwards. He looked on as Adora deftly managed Frosta’s frustration that she wasn’t being taken seriously, Entrapta’s distractibility and Perfuma’s pacifism, looking entirely in control and a capable commander. 

Was this what Horde training resulted in? The ability to compartmentalise and become an effective soldier in an instant. Bow envied Adora’s ability to do that, feeling adrift at sea, but he knew her, he’d been with her last night. He knew that inside she was crumbling like he was, that she spent the night in floods of tears and that her mask of efficiency right now was precisely that: a mask and she was hiding her true feelings behind a thin veneer. Look hard enough and the gaping cracks would show.

Bow liked to think that the rest of the princesses gathered around the table knew that as well, given Perfuma’s kind smile and Mermista’s softer eyes. Bow was overwhelmingly proud at what the Princess Alliance had become in such a short time: not overshadowed by its failed predecessor but soaring high on the foundations of friendship and trust. 

For someone as adept at reading other people as Netossa was, Adora was an open book. Her penetrating dark gaze could see Adora’s fracturing resolve, despite her mulish stubbornness and could see her internal despair despite her outward calm. The Horde girl was competent, this she knew, and would come up with a workable plan, especially given how she was accounting for everyone’s strengths and weaknesses, but was that the best thing to do? To let her fumble about and shoulder the responsibility all on her own?

Netossa had been a member of the previous alliance and knew why it had failed. It was comprised of members all of the same rank, no one presiding over them and it resulted in indecision and blame for failures. It also failed to take into account the abilities of the lesser known princesses, those without runestones like herself and Spinnerella. 

She knew that Adora was a capable and competent leader and would utilise her members well, after all, it was what she was trained to do in the Horde, but the dark-skinned woman knew she wasn’t emotionally ready to shoulder the burden of command on this mission. Especially with Catra and Glimmer on the line. Especially if something went wrong. Angella had been granted that out, rescinding decision-making responsibility with acknowledgement that she needed the escape, but Adora hadn’t. The others present were still looking to the blonde to form a plan and it was anything but fair to her. Glancing across to her wife and seeing nothing but reassurance in her lilac eyes, Netossa breathed a deep sigh.

“Ok guys, listen. I have a plan,” she said, looking around the table to the sea of faces looking back at her. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but the grateful look on Adora’s face and the patient expressions on everyone else’s made her pause in surprise. The grin on Spinnerella’s face didn’t shock her in the slightest; her wife was always her biggest supporter. 

“The Horde seems to operate mainly on an electronic system with personnel patrols to support this. Entrapta, you’ll be one of our key players here,” she said and the technological princess jumped at the sound of her name.

“Me?” she queried, her voice breaking softly at the end. “I’m not very good at keeping focussed. Perhaps someone else would be better suited?” Her hair tangled together at its ends, seeming to be a pair of hands wringing themselves helplessly.

Adora didn’t begrudge Netossa for taking charge; honestly, it was reassuring to her that there was someone to support her if needed, someone who could and would step in if she was faltering. She heaved a silent breath of relief that someone else was taking charge; as flattering as it was to be looked to (and she _craved_ that responsibility most days, if only to prove that she was capable of shouldering it), she knew she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to plan and execute a rescue mission. Not with her major support crutch missing. 

She wanted responsibility like a lost limb, lusting after it when she was absolved of it following her accident, but she’d never thought she’d have it without Catra by her side. And yes, she hoped that she would form a decent plan, and she hoped that she would succeed, but she knew, deep in her breast, that if it didn’t work, if it failed…

She would scatter into dust, broken more solidly than she ever had before and she wouldn’t be able to piece herself back together again.

She was normally proactive, not wanting to spend a single moment fallow and waiting, always in motion and forever pursuing the next activity on her list but, right now, she needed to be reactive. She needed to just let herself respond to things, not have to come up with anything; to allow herself to follow orders, instead of making them. If she tried to make them, she was sure she wouldn’t do a good job. 

And Netossa seemed to understand that, gently offering her a crutch to lean on and bolstering her. She was grateful to the older woman and slightly in awe of her. She would have a chance to learn and develop from someone else and Netossa commanded the respect of the room without dictating.

She was a promise of what the Princess Alliance could be: a flat-topped hierarchy with people stepping forward to lead dependent on their skillset. It was what Adora was aiming for. Right now, Netossa was the best person to plan the retrieval and so, she took command. Adora could see that, the others could see that and all approved of the structure. 

If one person was leading, it meant that there was compromise in situations like this but if all were prepared to step forwards when appropriate, they would be the best they could be. 

“Netossa is right, Entrapta,” Adora chimed in. “You’re the best at technology and hacking. The Horde is really reliant on their computer systems and, if we can disrupt them, we have a good chance of succeeding,” she said, with the accompanying nods from the other princesses gathered. Mermista had a small smile on her face and Perfuma was beaming. Frosta was staring at Netossa with an intense gaze and Entrapta, emboldened by the support around the table, nodded in agreement. 

\--

The arid landscape of the Fright Zone was oppressive in its openness. There was little present in terms of surrounding greenery and plant-life, having been cleared years ago by Hordak’s initial occupation of the area, partly to ease expansion of his technological fortress and partly due to his distrust of the mystical powers of the princesses and Etherian natives. If they could sneak up on him, they could feasibly attack him and cutting off any lines of attack was logical. 

As a result, the land was barren and dusty, covered in coarse sand and rocks bare of shrubbery. There were hill formations, peaks of stone reaching to the zenith, with deep gorges woven between them, a remnant of long-lost rivers that once stretched the length of the Scorpioni kingdom. 

There was an abrupt change in the landscape between the edge of the Whispering Woods and the dry Fright Zone, looking to the world as an invisible barrier was in place preventing the spread of anything living. Gathered just inside the trees was the Princess Alliance, their group collectively eyeing the desert with trepidation. Adora was in her She-ra form, Frosta glancing to her in childish wonder with sparkling eyes as she saw the transformation for the first time. 

Looking through his binoculars, Bow scanned the barren landscape for their best point of entry. Beyond the high mountainous rocks and sand dunes, there were openings in the sewer system; wide pipes with a small amount of dirty water coming out the bottom. Theoretically, they could navigate into the system from that point, but they would need to make sure they could breathe and have an exit point as well. Without a schematic of the Fright Zone sewers, they had no way of knowing where they would exit and it would be risky to go in blind. But, if they found an opening, they could get in without alerting any of the outdoor patrols and most sewer systems tended to follow the corridor layout, which was something they did know. 

He glanced across to Entrapta, who was also looking through her binoculars and she gave him a thumbs up with her hair, understanding the intimated question without explanation. She was learning!

Quickly explaining the plan to the others, they raced across the sand to the open pipe, the diameter of the tube yawning like a monster about to swallow them whole. Although the level of the water was only up to their ankles, Mermista used her powers of hydromancy to divert the water around their feet, making sure that it avoided touching any of them in the group. It seemed like a simple action but the level of magical power Mermista was displaying was extreme, ensuring that none of the water touched them as they moved forwards. A solitary bead of sweat trickled down her temple as they walked, Sea Hawk glancing across to her with care. 

The deeper they walked, the higher the water level rose, leading Netossa to form a barrier around them, edging Mermista’s boundary with her powers. The oceanic princess spared a grateful look to her, her eyes a shade warmer than usual as she relaxed the tremendous energy she was exerting to hold back the water. With the water now being partially held back with the net barrier and Mermista’s powers, they walked onwards, regardless that the water was now chest level. The true test would be even deeper still, when the water rose above their heads. 

A few more feet and the water was at chin level. This was the point where they could turn back, abandon their current plan but, logically, it was the best way into the Fright Zone. They had discussed it in their meeting and, although there hadn’t been the chance to try it out, the princesses were sure it would work. 

As the water breached the level of their heads, the barrier Netossa had formed and Mermista’s hydromancy were keeping the water droplets off them. Here, Spinnerella used her aeromancy to amplify the oxygen levels in their protective bubble, ensuring that they could all breathe. From that point on, they would be walking forwards as though underwater but in their protective shell and it would require a fine balance of control from the three princesses involved. Spinnerella wouldn’t be able to produce too much air otherwise the pressure inside would increase and push the barrier outwards, but if the barrier was too weak, it would collapse inwards and the water would rush in. 

They were steady in their forward pace, Mermista’s eyes unfocussed as she controlled the murky water around them, Sea Hawk by her shoulder steering her. Netossa’s hands were outstretched, reinforcing her barriers with strength of will with each foot surely planted in front of the next. Spinnerella was next to her, one hand reaching up and one downwards; she’d explained to an interested Frosta that one hand was inputting waste gases and one sending out oxygen at an equal pace, with her body as the fulcrum in the centre. Frosta’s eyes had widened and sparkled with the knowledge, also pleased that she was part of a group that wasn’t discounting her on the basis of her age. 

At the front of the group was Entrapta, with her pad in her hands and she was guiding them through the sewer system using the schematics of the Fright Zone downloaded from the Rebellion databanks. She wasn’t used to being in the lead but it was going well so far and she liked how the others trusted her to direct them correctly. Bow was next to her, using his superior vision to pick out any markings on the pipes that identified where they were and Perfuma was behind them. Bringing up the rear was Adora, her glowing presence as She-ra too bright to be at the front.

Bow threw out his hand, as he turned to Entrapta. “It says we’re in ‘B-36’,” he said and she squealed in delight. 

“That’s where we need to leave. We need to find a manhole cover or something.”

Expanding their bubble further, they cleared the whole section of pipe of water, exposing metalwork and showing there to be no access or egress points available to them. With a grunt, Netossa and Mermista relaxed their barrier back to the previous size as they debated how to go forwards. 

“We could make an exit?” Frosta suggested, her eyes glinting with a malicious glee. Adora agreed wholeheartedly and it was the sort of plan that she was sorely in favour of. With the first smile she had unleashed since Catra’s capture, she held out a hand for Frosta to bump her fist against it in a display of fighter camaraderie. With a lack of any other suggestions, the team agreed to the generously termed “plan”. 

With Adora as the vanguard and the Sword of Protection before her, she channelled her energy into the blade’s edge, causing it to have a luminescent glow. The others were gathered behind her, Mermista, Netossa and Spinnerella maintaining their protective bubble until the moment where Adora made her furious downward swing. At the exact moment her blade would have touched the barrier, the three released it and her blade connected to the steel of the pipe. As the murky water rushed around them, Frosta froze the edges so that they were surrounded by a crystalline shell, impervious to all else. The dirty water took the path of least resistance and rushed out of the newly formed gap, spraying a deluge of fluid into the open chamber behind the pipe. 

After a few moments, the torrent of water seemed to have settled into a gentle flow and Frosta dropped her snowy barrier, revealing the splintered metal of the pipe that had been bent outwards from the force of the water, curling the edges sharply into a parodied blossom. 

The gathered princesses (and Sea Hawk. Bow insisted that he counted as a princess) entered the storage room, their heads glancing back and forth as they checked to see if anyone was around. Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be any Horde personnel nearby as they tumbled out, feet stomping in the remaining stagnant water. The warehouse contained military tanks and weapons, all in a state of disarray and disrepair, forgotten and discarded since they were no longer of use to the Horde. 

Adora knew that feeling well. 

Now that they were inside the Fright Zone proper, they could regroup for the next step of their plan. Reaching into the packs that they were carrying, Sea Hawk and Bow pulled out canteens and fruit for the three exhausted princesses. Spinnerella took hers gratefully and Netossa grabbed hers perfunctorily. Mermista simply raised an eyebrow but her face softened minutely. On the wall of the warehouse was an access module for the Horde network and Entrapta beelined towards it with laser focus. Plugging her pad into the port, she worked her technological magic with her fingers and hair.

“Hmm, it seems the Horde is using an outdated wiring system and OS,” she mused to no one in particular. “I could update this if I consolidated some of the circuitry and it would work so much better.”

“Focus, Entrapta, please,” Perfuma gently chided and Entrapta shook her head, pushing the ends of her pigtails into her cheeks to reassert herself. 

“No, Entrapta. Focus! Glimmer needs you!” she chastised herself and got to work on accessing the system to find the location of Glimmer and Catra. She scanned through the schematics, searching the prison blocks with no success. Wherever the two were, they weren’t being kept in the official cells. Going through the cameras on the rest of the compound would have been so time consuming and she didn’t know where to start with it. 

“Perhaps we can find them another way?” Perfuma suggested, reassuring the group. After a few moments of thinking, Bow had a brainwave.

“If they’re somehow stopping Glimmer from teleporting, that might be using a large amount of power. We once measured Glimmer’s output and it was high, so if they’re stopping her by using some technology, we might be able to track the output?” 

Listening to the explanation, Adora stared on blankly as did most of the others but Entrapta’s face lit up at the suggestion. “I can track the energy usage and then use the cameras in those rooms to see if they’re in there!” 

Pulling up a diagram, the group gathered around and saw that there were two areas on the graph that spiking higher than everywhere else. Both places were unlabelled but there were corresponding camera numbers listed underneath them. The camera of the first spike looked over a scattered workspace that made Bow cringe with horror at the disorganisation and Entrapta’s eyes light up at the science going on in the Horde. In the background of the screen was Hordak, his crimson red eyes looking over a large mechanical structure that was powering up with a huge amount of energy. His blue hair and white skin were reflecting the light eerily and his mouth was downturned in a frown as the machine spluttered and smoked. 

“Hmm, I wonder what he’s doing there?” Entrapta said, using her control in the system to pan the camera around. On its travels, it scoped over a smattering work tools and skimmed over Hordak’s armoured body and the cowering shadow of Imp behind him. Behind him, they could all see the wall plastered with diagrams and schematics but no one knew what it meant.

Well, no one but Entrapta.

“Ooohh, he’s building a portal! To where, I wonder?” she mused aloud, catching everyone else by surprise. 

“What?”

“The diagrams on the wall,” she said, sounding the words out slowly, “they’re for a portal. As in, a way to transport something to somewhere else?” The blank looks of her audience continued at her explanation. Bow, cottoned on to Entrapta’s excitement but knew it wasn’t the time.

“Well, if we can download all the Horde database for later, we can investigate it further,” he compromised with her and her eyes lit up at the suggestion. 

“But my pad can’t support that much data,” she said and glanced around the room, her eyes landing on a broken robot in the corner. It was a pale green with pincer like legs and its screen was flickering sadly with a mournful purple light. Adora knew that the robot was one from her simulations and squealing, Entrapta rushed to the robot, pulling open its control pad. She attacked its innards with zeal, rewiring and rerouting its cables until is squeaked to life with a mechanical whine.

“Ah-ha-ha-ha! Hello, Emily!” she crowed, her garnet eyes lit up with joy. The robot, called Emily, skittered on it’s spidery legs towards the group, who all took a reflexive step backwards. Emily let out a sad whir, managing to sound upset at the snub and Entrapta patted the metal casing in reassurance. 

“Come on, Emily,” she said, pulling her newly repurposed robot towards the console she had been working from. Using a cable that she pulled from the pocket of her overalls, she connected Emily to the mainframe and downloaded all the information she could find available. Following this, she switched the camera to the other energy spike and pulled her hands back to cover her mouth in shock. Perfuma turned to support Bow’s shoulders and the others crowded around Adora to stop her leaping ineffectually at the screen as her vision turned red.

Displayed with perfect clarity was the Black Garnet chamber. Adora knew this from the many times she’d been in it growing up and the layout of the room hadn’t changed at all. Within the confines of the room was Shadow Weaver, standing before the Scorpioni runestone with her arms raised and electricity crackling between her palms. On occasion, she would lower her hands, taking the electricity she’d gathered and sending it forwards.

Towards Catra.

Who was chained to the floor.

In one corner kneeled Glimmer, her hands restrained with arcing electricity between two poles, rendering her unable to move but even on the silent film of the camera, they could all see her shouting in rage and sadness. Catra’s body arched up off the floor as much as it could but was stopped by her restraints: two around her wrists and one around her neck.

They’d collared her.

Adora’s vision went from red to white and all she could hear was the pulsing of her heartbeat in her ears. How _dare _they? It took everyone in the warehouse to keep her grounded, psychologically and physically as she flexed forwards again almost breaking out of their hold. Through the pounding in her head, she could make out the dulcet tones of Perfuma next to her.__

__“It’s ok, Adora. We’ll get her out,” she reassured._ _

__“No, you don’t understand. Shadow Weaver used to hurt Catra all the time. She used to use her powers on her and cause her pain,” she said, her anger vanishing quickly from it’s flashfire back to her usual burning smoulder. “I _hate _her for it.”___ _

____“And we do as well,” Mermista piped in, her hand on Adora’s shoulder. The blonde turned and was met by the dual reassuring dark eyes of Mermista and Perfuma. She shot them a grateful smile and scanned over the rest of the group seeing Frosta’s mulishly set jaw, Sea Hawk’s smiling face, Spinnerella and Netossa’s supportive stances and Bow’s sparkling eyes._ _ _ _

____Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Adora relaxed and stopped fighting, letting herself go loose. “Ok, I’m calm.”_ _ _ _

____“No, you’re not,” Frosta smirked up at her and she shared a secret smile with her. No, she wasn’t, but she was calm enough that she wasn’t going to fly off the handle anymore. The rest of the group heaved a sigh of relief, having expended a huge amount of energy to hold her back, and they paused to hash out the next phase of their plan now they had found their two missing members._ _ _ _

____After a pause, Entrapta typed on her pad again and opened the doors to the storage room, a quiet hiss filling the air as the pneumatics did their job. Bow and Sea Hawk poked their heads out, looking in both directions up the empty corridor. With a collective dash, the group left the storage room, following Adora to the Black Garnet chamber. She knew the pathway to that room like the back of her hand, having walked there so many times in the past._ _ _ _

____As they ran down the corridor, a loud siren blared overhead and the hallway filled with a flashing red light. They had been discovered and lost the element of surprise. Adora knew that Horde personnel would be on their way to their location and would never reach the inner sanctum of Shadow Weaver in that case. Sharing a distraught look with the others, her eyes filled with frustrated tears. They had gotten so close but wouldn’t succeed._ _ _ _

____Spinnerella put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and caught her gaze with her lilac eyes. “Run, we’ll deal with this,” she said, a mischievous grin spreading across her lips. Netossa was mirroring her wife’s expression, looking excited at the chance to unleashed some tension. The others nodded in agreement and they quickly dropped into fighting stances (well, Mermista, Frosta and Sea Hawk did; Perfuma hemmed in the background, not really wanting to fight and Entrapta wrung her hair nervously as Emily danced around her)._ _ _ _

____With a grateful look, and a promise to meet up to escape the Fright Zone, Adora and Bow rushed off in the direction of their two missing pieces. The sounds of fighting followed them down the corridor as they dashed forwards, relying on Adora’s memory of the compound to reach the Black Garnet chamber._ _ _ _

____When they arrived, a quick slash to the metal doors with the Sword of Protection caused an opening that they scrabbled through. Bow immediately rushed to Glimmer’s side, trying to loosen the restraints holding her in place. Adora took two steps towards Catra and stopped short._ _ _ _

____Somehow, seeing her in such a subservient position in person was infinitely more distressing than over the cameras. Catra appeared smaller and more delicate than she ever had; with Catra, her personality filled so much space that she often seemed larger than she was. Adora frequently felt tiny next to the vivacious woman, despite her extra inches in height. Catra was so confident, so sure of herself, that to see her like this, small and broken, was heart breaking to her._ _ _ _

____“Catra!” she yelped, skittering forward in her boots to land heavily at her side, her sword crashing to the floor. Catra’s head perked up at her voice, her eyes opening and, through the eddies of pain in her gaze, she registered Adora in front of her._ _ _ _

____“Adora!” she moaned, coughing a little with the pain of her muscle spasms. “You shouldn’t have come!”_ _ _ _

____“Of course I came!” Adora answered back, cradling Catra’s head and shoulders in her arms, “I came for you!”_ _ _ _

____Despite the soft, warm feeling in her breast, Catra couldn’t help the overwhelming concern and worry that filled her. She hadn’t seen Shadow Weaver in a while and it seemed that Adora’s rescue attempt was going a little too well. She glanced across to Glimmer, who had spent the last few hours screaming futilely at Shadow Weaver as she danced electricity over her skin, and was staring at Bow with appreciation as he picked apart her bindings._ _ _ _

____(Although it had been futile and useless, Catra had been touched that Glimmer had cared enough to yell herself hoarse for her. No one besides Adora had ever stuck up for her before and it warmed her heart to hear Glimmer’s cries, as wrong as that sounded.)_ _ _ _

____Bow was picking apart Glimmer’s restraints, tutting over her bloodied forehead and preening her matted hair like a mother bird. Glimmer was staring at him with a look so full of love Catra was sure Bow must be blind not to see it. Adora was fiddling with her own restraints, her fingers less skilled than Bow’s but there was something frantic, something desperate behind her movements. She’d managed to snap the collar, the first thing she’d addressed, and one of her wrist bindings before the impending doom Catra had been waiting for hit._ _ _ _

____Out of the shadows behind Adora, Shadow Weaver loomed, her size seemingly huge in comparison to the two crouched on the ground. Her thin fingers crept forwards as her hands extended, reaching towards the blonde’s head. Over her shoulder, Catra could see that Bow and Glimmer had frozen in place, apparently merging with their shadows to keep them solidly in place._ _ _ _

____When Catra tried to open her mouth to warn Adora of the danger over her shoulder, she found that her jaw had locked involuntarily. She couldn’t speak or say anything, her eyes wide with alarm and warning. Her hands had been left untethered and she scrabbled at Adora’s, her unbound hand grasping the blonde’s firmly as her bound one formed their signal for “danger”._ _ _ _

____Adora frowned and started to turn her head, but before she could even look over her shoulder, Shadow Weaver’s long fingers clamped on either side of her head like a vice, keeping her head still despite her larger size. Catra could see the exact moment that Adora realised who was standing behind her as her spine snapped straight and her hands dropped to her side. Although she had fought for years to undo the conditioning Shadow Weaver had inflicted upon Adora, she still reverted back to it on occasion._ _ _ _

____Adora’s shining blue eyes locked on Catra’s with fright, knowing who was behind her but not knowing what was going on. There was something familiar about the sensation though; the feeling of fingers splayed over her temples striking a chord in her memory but she couldn’t place it._ _ _ _

____Catra knew that this was how Shadow Weaver altered Adora’s memories; she’d never personally seen it happen but the look of distraught terror in Adora’s eyes, combined with the frightening familiarity in Shadow Weaver’s grasp tipped her off. She knew if she let Shadow Weaver proceed, more of Adora would be lost to the ether, the patchwork of her mind widening further._ _ _ _

____And she didn’t know what the cruel witch would take this time._ _ _ _

____Between the leathery palms and the skin of Adora’s temple, electric energy gathered and caused the blonde to tense and become rigid. Her blue eyes slid shut as her jaw clamped down, biting her tongue and causing a trickle of blood to meander down her chin. Her head twitched on occasion, like a leashed animal, but was contained by the practiced hands of the witch. Catra fought her remaining tether with futility, causing scratches and gouges to form on her wrist as a consequence as the crackling lightning intensified and Adora’s twitching developed into full body shudders. She watched in mute silence as she lost the She-ra transformation and shrank back into Adora, her bloodied chin and rolled eyes remaining despite her change of form._ _ _ _

____And, as suddenly as the sorceress’ actions began, they stopped. Adora dropped to the ground in a rush as the hands disappeared. Shadow Weaver’s form disappeared and, through tear filled eyes, Catra could see that she was pinned against the Black Garnet with a rope._ _ _ _

____A distant part of her mind thought that it was strange to see one of Bow’s arrow restraints from this perspective. The last time she’d encountered one, she’d been on the receiving end of it._ _ _ _

____Shadow Weaver’s control over the shadows binding Bow and Glimmer must have slipped, causing the pair to escape their restraints and launch an attack. The Brightmoon princess had disappeared in a flurry of sparkles, reappearing in mid-air to release a kick to the mask of the sorceress. As her head snapped backwards from the impact, she was thrown into the path of Bow’s rope arrow, binding her to the runestone in the corner of the room._ _ _ _

____Bow put his dextrous fingers to work on Catra’s remaining manacle as she pulled and tugged in an attempt to get closer to Adora, who remained collapsed on the floor. Following her heroic kick, Glimmer hand slipped down onto her hands and knees and seemed to be glitching, her own purple sparkles at odds with lingering red electricity in her body._ _ _ _

____When she was finally released, Catra rushed to the blonde’s side, brushing her fringe from her face as she had done so many times in the past. Adora stirred groggily, her eyes blinking open sluggishly as she focused on the cat-girl in front of her. Catra’s eyes widened with hope as her heart skipped a beat with fear: how much had Shadow Weaver erased this time? What would Adora remember?_ _ _ _

____What would she have forgotten?_ _ _ _

____“Adora?” she tentatively asked, voice quivering like a lost child. Adora’s eyes locked onto her as the chest cradling her vibrated with her voice, her brows furrowing in confusion._ _ _ _

____“Catra? Why am I on the floor?” she asked, glancing around. She frowned with more questions as she took in the state of the room. “Why’s Shadow Weaver tied up? What’s wrong with Glimmer?”_ _ _ _

____With a gasp and a bolt upright, she shouted: “Where’re the others? We have to go back for them!” Catra couldn’t help herself, it was such an Adora thing to say, to be concerned about others whilst she was laying on the floor: she laughed. A little squeaky laugh, but a laugh all the same. A laugh of relief: she was still the same Adora and Shadow Weaver hadn’t succeeded, despite her best efforts._ _ _ _

____Levering themselves to their feet, Adora brushed the back of her hand over her chin, rubbing away the blood from her bitten tongue with a frown. She picked her sword up off the floor, glanced over to Shadow Weaver, who may have been talking to her, she didn’t know with her wearing her mask. And she didn’t want to._ _ _ _

____The foursome left the room through the same hole they’d made to get in. Looking behind them, Catra could see that Bow and Glimmer were holding each other’s hands like a lifeline and she would usually be teasing them for it but, considering how she held Adora’s in a death grip of her own, she thought she’d let it slide, just this once. Glimmer looked up to her, locking their eyes together, and they shared a moment of grim survival. An understanding passed between them: they wouldn’t divulge the full details of what went on in that room to anyone if they could help it, certainly not to their two idiots next to them._ _ _ _

____Treading back down the hallways, their speed increasing with every corner, they made their way back to the others. Broaching the final turn, they were stopped short by the carnage in front of them. In the corridor laid the many bruised and battered bodies of Horde personnel, unconscious and surely hurting and all in varying states of disarray. There was even one hanging limp over one of the overhead pipes, their limbs loose and dangling._ _ _ _

____Scattered around the bodies were the others: Frosta was literally sitting atop a pile of partially frozen Horde troops, like she was the winner of a game, talking to Spinnerella and Netossa as they were now eye level given Frosta’s dramatic increase in height. She had a wickedly manic grin on her face and her knuckles were bruised but seemed unharmed beyond that._ _ _ _

____Spinnerella, for her part, appeared completely unruffled by the chaos around her, her hair and clothing completely unchanged from usual, as though she was sitting at the conference table in Brightmoon, or sipping on her morning tea. In fact, the only sign that she had been part of any violence at all was the slight amount of dirt under her fingernails and a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead._ _ _ _

____Netossa was similarly unaffected, her boots a little scuffed and her hair slightly askew. Her dark skin was unchanged as she gestured wildly to Frosta, her clenched fist bumping into the younger princess’ in camaraderie._ _ _ _

____(Catra hadn’t been present when their entry into the Fright Zone took place but Adora would reveal everything later and she would be suitably impressed and in awe and a little jealous and a little terrified of the sheer level of badassery Spinnerella and Netossa displayed. To then look like nothing had happened, not even seem a little winded? So cool.)_ _ _ _

____Perfuma was fluttering in the background, her dress dirtied and headdress in tatters as she waved her hands at Entrapta. The technological princess was fawning over Emily, her newly obtained robot had some new scratches and scuffs. One of the robot’s legs was warped as though it had been blasted at high heat and the tips of Entrapta’s long hair seemed singed in places. The other places were waterlogged and sodden though, leading to the impression that Mermista had something to do with it._ _ _ _

____The oceanic princess was leaning against the wall, arms crossed as she surveyed the carnage before her, a triumphant smirk on her dark lips as her eyes twinkled with success. Her braid had unravelled slightly and her shirt was torn, but over all she seemed unharmed. Sea Hawk had his neckerchief wrapped around his hand, compressing a wound, but was waving his unblemished rapier around whilst shouting “Adventure!” so, he must have been alright?_ _ _ _

____“Oh my! Glimmer! Catra! You’re back!”_ _ _ _

____“Hey, so you’re back. Yay, or whatever.”_ _ _ _

____“Ah-ha! I knew our daring adventure would be successful!”_ _ _ _

____Gobsmacked, Glimmer and Catra stared at the gathered group as Adora and Bow approached them, sharing tearful embraces and cheerful smiles. Everyone here had come to retrieve them? Glimmer had hoped and dreamed of her reformed Princess Alliance but never had she thought that such a cohesive force could have been rallied so early into its development. She had hoped and dreamed of a united front for Etheria but never had she thought that she could actually achieve it: it wasn’t a lofty, unattainable goal but an end that was in reach._ _ _ _

____Catra had never considered herself worthy of rescue, never considered herself worthy of friendship and, although she knew people would be coming for Glimmer, she’d never considered that they may want her back as well._ _ _ _

____They were swept up into the ensuing reunion, pausing briefly at the new additions to the Princess Alliance._ _ _ _

____(“Wha-? Princess Frosta, what’re you doing here?”_ _ _ _

____“The Horde attacked my Kingdom. I wasn’t going to let that slide. Plus, if I’m part of the Alliance, I get to punch people.”_ _ _ _

____“She’s my kind of princess, Sparkles.”)_ _ _ _

____Their travels to the transport dock and acquisition of a skiff seemed almost anticlimactic to the excitement and adrenaline fuelled journey that was their invasion of the Fright Zone. They were unmet in the hallways on their way to the transport bays, remaining on high alert as they rounded each corner._ _ _ _

____Catra couldn’t help but remember the last time she snuck into the transport bay with Adora, stolen skiff keys in hand as they went for their excursion into the Whispering Woods and found Adora’s sword. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, and perhaps it was. She certainly felt like she’d been reborn some days, given how different her life was in Brightmoon compared to here. She sent a small smile to Adora, still holding her hand, and was met with a matching grin as she undoubtedly remembered the same thing._ _ _ _

____Although she’d wiped away most of it, Catra couldn’t help but notice the small remnant of blood in the corner of Adora’s mouth and her smile crashed down, thinking about Shadow Weaver’s machinations. Adora had been lucky, this time, but if she was ever captured again, she might not be so lucky again and her memories would be even patchier than they already were, if they remained woven at all._ _ _ _

____Piling aboard the skiff, they set off back to Brightmoon. Winding down from their first successful mission as an Alliance, they sailed back just as the morning moon was rising. As they all breathed a sigh of relief, they could rest easy knowing that they had ensured that no princess was left behind._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look ma! I fixed it! SpinToss are awesome and it's idiotic not to include them in the rescue
> 
> As always, let me know what you think
> 
> BYB x


	10. The Beacon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And, whilst in her grasp during the rescue mission, Shadow Weaver hadn’t taken anything from the blonde’s mind, leaving her memories untarnished and clean, that didn’t mean she hadn’t put something in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little later than I intended, I had a postgraduate exam that was kicking my arse and, thankfully, finished (until results day).
> 
> As always, your kudos and comments and bookmarks have left me flabbergasted and humbled. Thank you all so much.

He had never been so insulted! The pathetic Rebellion that had been a thorn in his side for so many years had dared to invade his territory, his kingdom. It demonstrated the pitiful Rebellion’s audacity and sheer impudence that they had laid waste to his compound. The corridors were a mess of dripping water and fracturing ice crystals, mould and moss growing at an alarming rate. His red eyes scanned over the spots of blood on the metal flooring as his mouth sneered. He usually didn’t hold much care for his personnel, viewing them as slightly less disposable than his robots or his tanks, but an indignant fury rose in him. It wasn’t on behalf of his soldiers, but the principle of the matter and the displayed temerity that made his blood boil.

Hordak saw this as a personal affront, against him, against the Horde, against Almighty Prime and he would _not_ take this lying down. He vowed he would have his revenge.

As he scanned over the security footage from the invasion of his land, his eyes drifted over the culprits. The Princesses of Etheria. The thought left a disgusting taste in his mouth. He’d laid waste to that pitiful allegiance years ago, razed it to the ground until all that remained was ash and ruin and broken promises between the nations, but somehow, it had resurrected. 

He looked at those on screen, taking note of the key players and seeing some worthy of his interest. There were two that niggled a memory in him, perhaps they had been part of his army at one time, and another, who piqued his attention. Without them, the entire incursion would have likely failed. They had knowledge and skills that could prove useful to the Horde, to Prime, to him.

And he would have them.

Summoning Grizzlor, the large beast man being one of his most loyal Force Captains, he waited with patience on his throne. Off to the side, he could see his failed experiments, his inadequacies, piled in the corner and taunting him with their presence. He scowled, his red eyes narrowing and his mouth downturned at the sight. 

For too many years he had been trapped on this backwater planet, desperately trying to return to his rightful place at the side of Lord Prime, clawing any semblance of technology from the depths of the backwards natives only to continually fail in his quest. He threw a clawed white hand into his blue hair with frustration, allowing himself that release in the privacy of his own company. 

He knew he had been abandoned all those years ago, left to die at Prime’s will but, if he could make his way back to his side, to prostrate himself at Prime’s feet, and prove himself worthy, he would be able to bask in his light. Forever.

When the large, furred man entered the throne room, he was met with the imperious face of his leader, primly sat on his throne and glaring at him through narrowed eyes. He knelt at the base of the plinth of stairs, his eyes focused on the ground as he waited for his Lord to speak. 

“As you are aware, Force Captain Grizzlor, we were attacked yesterday,” he began, his voice never more than a conversational level but reverberating around the room regardless, echoing in the dark silence. “We will not stand for this injustice.”

“Of course, Lord Hordak. What do you command of me?”

“There was someone present during the raid that ensured the pathetic Rebellion’s attack succeeded and they may prove useful to the Horde,” he said and he delivered his next words with the finality of ordering an execution. 

“Bring them to me.”

\--

Contrasting against the outward calm that was Hordak, Shadow Weaver was raging. Since she had freed herself from her bindings, and been reprimanded by Hordak (like a child, she fumed), she had taken her anger and frustration out on her chambers. Most of her belongings laid at her feet, broken beyond repair and as fractured as she was but the Black Garnet, reigning supreme in the corner, laid untouched by the destruction. It’s polished surface was pristine, cold like a deity and just as unblemished. It was a dissonant juxtaposition with the carnage of the rest of the room: her smashed mirror, broken chairs and gouges wrought into the walls by angered claws. 

She’d had _everything_ in her grasp: Adora, the sword, the way to the Heart of Etheria and its power and she’d lost it! Worse over, she’d been made to submit herself before the imbecilic commander of the Horde in contrition, an act that made her stomach curl with disgust and pride.

She’d been accused of malignant pride back at Mystacor, the other sorcerers claimed it was misplaced and inflated but she knew that she was destined for great things. She had managed to control a runestone without being a princess, she’d managed the Spell of Obtainment and she knew with all certainty that she could harness the power of the Heart of Etheria for similar greatness. 

But, to access the Heart, she needed Adora, well She-ra. And she’d had her! She’d been right there, just a few more moments would have rid her of her pesky distractions and unneeded attachments, especially to that mongrel!

She should have never let Adora interact with the pest! She’d spent years trying to undo the damage that the creature had done to Adora. It was her fault Adora was defective; if the monster hadn’t been there, Adora would never have lost her hearing. She’d been perfect before she’d been tainted by the feline, the perfect soldier: obedient and subservient and she would get her back.

And once Adora returned, she would access the Heart and gain all power on Etheria. And she would _never_ have to bend herself to anyone ever again. 

Although she had failed to keep Adora in her grasp, she’d had access to her for long enough. She’d knew Adora’s mind intimately: she’d forged her personality and her will from childhood, bending her malleable mind and forming her into something worthy of Shadow Weaver’s attention. Adora had grown up thinking of her as a mother figure and she used that love as a guise under which she operated her puppet.

She had conditioned the blonde for long enough and had direct access to her mind and memories on enough occasions that she knew the labyrinthine twists and turns of the blonde’s cortex better than her own. She knew Adora’s triggers and her releases, her pressure points and her tender spots oh so well.

And, whilst in her grasp during the rescue mission, Shadow Weaver hadn’t taken anything from the blonde’s mind, leaving her memories untarnished and clean, that didn’t mean she hadn’t put something in. A change would be too noticeable, a removal too obvious and would show her hand too readily but an addition, a tweak, would slip past the flimsy barriers.

Soon, Adora would be back and Shadow Weaver could correct her mind properly. Without interruption. 

\--

Just inside the tree line of the Whispering Woods, their stolen skiff touched down in a completely different fashion to how a skiff had landed a few months ago: with a controlled descent and a whimper as opposed to a bang and crash. The morning light was streaming through the leaves, dappling the forest floor with pale patches and the undergrowth was steadily being trampled by the feet of the Princess Alliance.

There was an exhilarated exchange of embraces, hands firmly grasping around their regained members with incredulous, breathless wonder. Glimmer was being firmly pressed to Perfuma’s front, the plant princess’ willowy arms engulfing her fully whilst her hand remained firmly grasped in Bow’s. Entrapta was patting her on her sparkly head with her hair, the soft strands gently knocking her like a hand. Spinnerella and Netossa were standing on the side lines, arms wrapped around each other as they watched with fond affection. Mermista had given a short, sharp hug at the beginning but quickly extracted herself from the princess pile. Sea Hawk had his hands held under his tremulous jaw, his moustache trembling as his eyes filled with fond tears. 

Frosta was staring on with a look of ravenous envy, her lips set in a firm pout. She had grown up alone and adapted to the immense pressures of her role at an early age, which seemed to age her prematurely. She’d had to manage a kingdom and think like an adult, every day dealing with difficult decisions and interacting with those older than herself. Many people looked down on her because of her age and she had had to fight to be taken seriously, for her words to matter. She’d had to stamp firmly on any remaining vestiges of childhood, for any inch that was displayed to others would be used to discredit her.

She had perfected her icy mask, her face a wintery rime where underneath, a blizzard raged. She had missed out on much taking the reins of her kingdom early: she couldn’t grieve for her parents openly; she couldn’t indulge herself like she wanted to. She had hidden all wild and childish aspects of herself, keeping them safe from any who would judge her. And that was everyone. Her bedroom was a mess of feelings, untidy and chaotic but her ante-chamber, the room she received guests in, was pristine. 

She did not have the luxury of indulgence, and emotions, friendships, were just that: an indulgence. Not necessary for ruling effectively.

Catra could almost understand the ice princess’ feelings: desperate to be involved but not wanting to let protective walls down long enough to let herself. She sidled up to the young girl to whisper conspiratorially in her ear.

“You can join in, you know?” she purred, watching as Frosta’s eyes widened a little. “It’s not childish to need or want support.” Frosta glanced up into the heterochromic eyes of the woman who had taken her seriously without question, who addressed her as she addressed everyone else. 

She was about to call out her hypocrisy, given how Catra had visibly bristled when Sea Hawk approached her for a hug and been rebuffed with a caustic glare, but she noticed the silent blonde shadow standing next to her. Adora was standing by Catra’s shoulder, their hands held together and Frosta noticed that Catra’s fingers were gripping Adora’s with intensity, her nails almost digging into the fragile skin. Her blue eyes noticed how Catra hadn’t released Adora’s hand once since they had retrieved her, taking solace in the soundless presence beside her. Although never exchanging direct looks, Catra’s scratched and bruised face had softened as soon as Adora made contact, relief flooding her eyes.

For her part, Adora seemed reluctant to release Catra’s hand as well, but her attention was on the princess pile before them, eyes sparkling with affection and a soft smile on her lips. Frosta knew that Adora was strong, that Catra was strong and that both were respected adults but they had also let themselves laugh before her, cry before her and take strength from each other before her. 

Did she think less of them because of it? Did she think them childish for it?

Would they think that of her in return?

With a large smile on her lips, she gave a grateful nod to Catra and let herself burst forwards into the princess pile, her hands tangling around Glimmer’s waist and inserting herself in between her and Perfuma. There was a delighted laugh from Perfuma, her arms warm and comforting, and a joyful “Frosta!” from Glimmer at her actions. Entrapta moved back at her fast entrance but Frosta felt a tentative weight on the crown of her head and lavender hair out of the corner of her eyes as the technological princess welcomed her as well. 

A glance over her shoulder showed that Mermista was smiling off to the side, her dark eyes tender and Sea Hawk lost his battle and was openly sobbing at the sight. He could resist no longer and launched himself forward, resulting in a loud tumble to the forest floor as they crashed into the ground into a, literal, princess pile (and Sea Hawk. Bow _still_ counted as a princess). And, in the mountain of limbs, with Perfuma’s tanned, pointy elbow digging into her shoulder and her face in Glimmer’s ruined prom dress, Frosta couldn’t keep it in any longer.

A loud, childish laugh was finally loosed from her throat as she let herself be part of a group again and her icy protections relaxed ever so slightly. 

\--

Their euphoria at their success was dampened slightly when Glimmer began to glitch in a furious flash of red lightning, causing her limbs to lock and spasm as she moaned in pain. Bow winced as she clamped down on his hand, knowing it wasn’t intentional and he fluttered forwards in an attempt to support the Brightmoon princess as she collapsed to her knees. The others watched with helplessness as Bow folded himself around her, an ineffectual shield for her glitching.

“What’s going on?” Frosta voiced, her voice breaking slightly on the last word.

“I think Shadow Weaver’s powers interacted badly with Glimmer’s and they’re causing her body to malfunction,” Catra explained, having been with Glimmer the whole time in their captivity and having seen the sorceress’ actions towards the princess. Bow’s face lit up with empathetic, righteous fury at her comment, his arms cradling Glimmer gently. Although none of the collected group knew exactly what had happened during the pair’s captivity, they had an inkling. And they saw the security footage and could see the effects. 

They knew that some form of physical violence had taken place, knew that Catra had been actively attacked by the sorceress’ magic. It stood to reason that Glimmer had as well. Bow thought back to how he found her, restrained between the two columns, crackling with malicious red energy and knew that was how they had stopped Glimmer from teleporting. 

“Will she be ok?” Frosta tentatively asked, her hands firmly held in fists as she scuffed the ground with her boot. She looked on with palpable concern but seemed ready to slip her mask of indifference back on in an instant. Perfuma, similarly, looked upset, her empathetic personality opening her heart to woe.

“I don’t know,” Bow said, looking sadly upon the glitching princess, her limbs locked in spasmodic paralysis as she flinched under the red electric energy. Entrapta approached the pair on the ground, her garnet eyes calculating.

“Hmm, perhaps it is to do with the interaction between the two runestones?” she mused, her hair reaching into the back pocket of her overalls for her recorder. She and Bow began to discuss back and forth about her theory as the others watched in impotence.

“If it is, what can we do?” Mermista asked, arms firmly crossed and expression stony. Beneath, there was concern, readily readable to those that knew her. Sea Hawk’s tears hadn’t dried in the interim, but were now saddened rather than joyful. Netossa and Spinnerella hovered to one side, unable to offer any advice as their powers were not linked to runestones and they didn’t know the intricacies of them. 

“Maybe she just needs to recharge?” came Perfuma’s quiet voice.

“Or Queen Angella might be able to help her?” 

“Perhaps She-ra can heal her?” Adora said quietly, catching up on the conversation on her pad and hr blue eyes soft and ever so sad as she looked at her struggling friend. She remembered back to when they first met Perfuma, her mentioning something about She-ra healing the plants. 

“I don’t know Adora, remember last time?” Catra said, a slight smirk on her lips now that Glimmer’s glitching seemed to have stopped and she rested exhaustedly on the grass in Bow’s arms. Adora flushed crimson, remembering the horse, and spluttered wildly in protest. Glimmer, from her position on the floor, let out a little laugh at the memory, snorting a little.

“I’m sure it won’t happen again!” she said, gesturing with her hand that wasn’t still in Catra’s claws. The gathered crowd let out a small chuckle at Catra’s disbelieving eyebrow rise, the tension in the clearing dissipating slightly.

“No offense Adora,” came Glimmer’s voice and all heads turned to the Brightmoon princess, “but I’d rather check out the runestone theory first. I already have wings; I don’t need a horn as well.” 

“I think you’d suit a unicorn horn, Sparkles,” Catra purred at her, winking lasciviously. For her part, Glimmer took the banter good naturedly, brandishing her fist weakly at Catra as she threw a mock punch. The muttered “I’ll show you unicorn, Horde scum,” with mock affront went uncommented on as Bow helped her back to her feet. Although she felt like she’d been in one of Spinnerella’s typhoons, she remained standing, swaying only slightly. She surreptitiously tried to teleport but her muscles seized again and she knew that the trek to Brightmoon would be long and slow: by foot. 

She was tired, sore and wanted to go home. Yes, she was glitching, but there was nothing that could be done about it in the middle of the Whispering Woods and she would have a better and easier time if she went home. Pragmatically, this was her mother’s lessons speaking to her: consolidate the resources and regroup.

(Emotionally, she just wanted to go home. She knew she’d been begging her mother for a big mission but, her time in the Fright Zone had changed her priorities. She was ready to fight for the Rebellion, eager for it still, but she really wanted to see her family. The last time someone in her family had been in the Fright Zone, they hadn’t come back and all she had to remember them by was a scuffed mural and a grieving mother.)

The assembled group began their trek through the Whispering Woods, branching into smaller conversations as they moved. Sea Hawk was holding court with Frosta and Entrapta. He was demonstrating his sabre technique, thrusting forwards with every third step. Frosta was gleefully staring at him with stars in her eyes and a bloodthirsty grin on her lips. Entrapta was muttering into her recorder, excitedly asking Sea Hawk about thrusting energy and swiping angles, her hair measuring the length of the sword’s blade as Emily skittered behind them like a mechanical puppy. 

Mermista was trailing behind them, staring off to one side whilst chewing on a length of kelp Sea Hawk had handed her on landing in the Whispering Woods, her eyes darting to the trio occasionally with a soft fondness. Upon finding out about his secret kelp stash, Bow had rifled the sailor’s bags, whistling at the snack selection he had on offer. He had gently pulled himself from Glimmer’s side, unable to stop himself from looking back at her every few steps. She’d ushered him ahead, content to follow and gather her thoughts.

“Does he bring a snack bag on all your outings?” he asked Mermista, who groaned into the ether and replied that he called it his ‘Adventure Grab Bag’ with an exasperated eye-roll.

Perfuma was chatting with Spinnerella, discussing the gas producing properties of moulds and other plants whilst the aeromancer listened intently. Netossa was trudging behind them, happy that Spinny had found someone to talk gases with, her cloud of pale hair bouncing with each step. 

Adora and Catra were still joined at the hip and Glimmer didn’t think they’d be separating any time soon. She’d seen how they’d been after their brief separation in Dryl; she couldn’t imagine them letting each other go for at least a few more hours. Although the journey seemed slightly more challenging as they were each down a hand, the two were moving easily, Adora tapping Catra on the shoulder every so often to point out something she saw. At some point, Catra’s tuxedo jacket had made its way onto the blonde’s shoulders, the hilt of the sword poking out of the collar, and it was in danger of falling every time she raised her free hand to point. 

They were doing their silent communication thing that spoke of years together and it was weird to see it from this side. Growing up, she’d often been told by her mother that she and Bow had a way of talking with just looks and she’d never quite understood it but, seeing the demonstration before her, she got it. A fond smile reached her lips at the sight of the two, pleased of how far they’d grown in such a short time. And a little proud that she’d helped.

Catra saw her smiling and gave her a small, genuine smile in return, before changing it to a wicked smirk and a rude hand gesture. Adora gasped at the sign, hitting the feline on the upper arm as Frosta’s head swivelled at the noise. Catra laughed mischievously and unrepentantly, Adora’s winged brooch winking from her shirt. 

Glimmer liked the relationship she had with Catra. Growing up, she’d was always felt that she wasn’t “princess material”: too stubborn, too crass, too emotional, too eager to fight and she’d felt a little out of place for it. It was strange to interact with someone so similar to her. The other princesses were all a little different: Perfuma reluctant to fight, Mermista reluctant to get involved, Entrapta less emotional. Her interactions with Frosta had been limited but she had seemed reluctant to come across as childish, something that Glimmer had been accused of on many occasions. Bow never asked for her to change but she knew that he had to step in at times when her temper got the better of her and he wasn’t like her. He was considerate and kind.

Her mother was always on at her, telling her to be more mature but she couldn’t help it. It’s who she is. She would no more change it than give up her magic voluntarily. Sure, she could act restrained and demure but, when it came down to it, she was a scrappy ball of emotions that fared better brashly yelling at someone than negotiating with them. 

(She’d always been a little too much like her dad: a little too impetuous and a little too impulsive. She knew that her personality wasn’t the greatest for a princess and certainly not the princess of Brightmoon but she could never find it in her heart to try and change. Because sometimes, when she looked in the mirror or heard herself yelling, she could almost imagine her dad with her. She could almost see the hints of the kind-hearted, fiery sorcerer peeking through the veil of glitter and angelic wings.)

Catra understood that because Catra was like that as well. She and Glimmer had their _own_ secret language. Adora and Catra spoke with hand signals, Bow and Glimmer spoke with heavy looks but Glimmer and Catra spoke in barbs and insults. No malice behind them (anymore) but they understood each other perfectly. 

So, when Catra made that gesture to her, she knew what it meant, in the strictest definition and how everyone else interpreted it but, for her, it was a check in. An “are you ok?”. A concerned enquiry from a friend. 

So, her answering sign, that was just as rude and sent Netossa into spirals of laughter as she was the one to teach her it, passed the secret message along loud and clear. 

‘I’m ok.’

Branching apart in the woods, the gathered princesses split back to their own kingdoms, leaving the Brightmoon residents marching forwards. Mermista and Sea Hawk had volunteered to take Frosta home, given that her kingdom was en route to Salineas and the young ruler and Sea Hawk had become scarily close. As they departed, the two were engaged in a spitting contest with Mermista face palming behind them, a small hidden smile on her face beneath her hand. 

Perfuma floated away as well, giving them all another embrace and Entrapta announced her separation with a loud cackle and a promise of communicators in the near future. As it stood, the only way they had of contacting the other kingdoms was with the distress beacons and pads, which acted as a primitive communication system: announcing distress but not allowing for planning or meetings. Entrapta said she had plans for this, with a gleeful smile on her face and a tone usually reserved for the word “science”. Her eyebrows wriggled as her fingers spasmed with excitement and an explosion of laughter and Emily's chirps followed her through the trees. 

For the remaining members, the trek to Brightmoon passed quickly and without incident and they passed into the castle under the watchful and grateful eyes of the guards. The returning princesses had brought their missing princess back with them, like they’d promised but no one was more thankful than Angella who was approaching them with blinding speed. She was flying towards them, her white wings spread wide and streaming crystal tears behind her.

“Glimmer!” she shouted loudly, crashing towards her daughter. She folded her slender body around Glimmer, nestling her chin on Glimmer’s crown as her tears darkened her hair a deeper shade of purple. Glimmer felt her mother’s arms tightening around her shoulders and it was as though a dam broke. Her composure and strength seemed to vanish in that moment and she was back to being a child, cradled by her mother.

Her eyes watered and streamed down her cheeks as she crumbled into her mother’s warm comfort. She was tired, distraught and still glitching but, for some reason, the world seemed ok again.

“Oh, Glimmer! I thought I’d lost you to the Fright Zone like your father!” the angelic queen cried, sobbing her guilt out over sending Micah on that mission all those years ago.

Bow watched on with the rest of the guards as the two royals folded into one another, Glimmer going silent with her distress and Angella loudly sobbed into her hair. It seemed like they had a role reversal, with Angella breaking the sound barrier and Glimmer reticent and stony, and Bow could feel himself tearing at the sight. 

He knew that the pair loved each other deeply; they could only clash as much as they did if they truly cared but he also knew that, sometimes, it was hard to see. With how much they antagonised each other, Glimmer making Angella grind her teeth at least four times a day and Angella making Glimmer’s face turn burgundy with alarming regularity, their love could sometimes get lost in the cloud of high blood pressure. But he knew with all certainty that they loved each other and, it was in moments like this, when they allowed themselves to be mother and daughter, not Queen and Princess, or General and Commander, that it showed as clearly as the light of the Moonstone.

He looked back at the Horde pair, shifting uncomfortably on their feet at the display of motherly affection and uncertain of what to do. Their hands were still joined, Bow didn’t think a crowbar would separate them at this point, and they were starting to lean against one another in exhaustion. Adora had a look of relief on her face but Catra, beneath the dirty scuff marks and wounds, was eyeing the royal pair with a ravenous hunger that spoke of neglect. 

It didn’t last long though, as Angella gathered her wits about herself again. She pulled herself back from Glimmer, a fond hand trailing down her daughter’s cheek and love in her eyes, as she turned to address the other three. They were all unkempt and muddy, Catra still dressed in her ruined tuxedo, but Angella was so pleased because she had her children back under her roof.

Rushing forwards and pulling Glimmer with her by virtue of the fact that she still had her arm cradled around her neck, she snatched her other children into an embrace together. Muttering incomprehensible praises and thanks in their ears, their hair, she held her family firmly. 

She’d already lost Micah to the Fright Zone. She couldn’t handle losing another member of her family.

“You all came home!” she whisper-cried, her voice soft and broken but it made Catra’s ears twitch all the same. “I’m so glad you all came home.” Bow and Glimmer returned her embrace with a tightness that spoke of family and familiarity. Adora remained stock still, her spine as straight as the blade that ran along it, ramrod in nature and just as flexible. She looked helplessly around the room, not picking up on Angella’s murmurings and confused. Bow reached up and pushed her head down, bending it so she was participating in the group hug, instead of it being inflicted on her. 

Catra was the most surprising however. This strong, independent woman, who had never needed a mother in her life (never wanted one, she tried to convince herself) found her claws reaching up and tangling in downy wing feathers, her head tipping forwards as her eyes filled with tears.

And, in the entryway of Brightmoon castle, a family reunited and rebuilt themselves. 

\--

Dinner that evening was an emotional affair. In fact, the last few days had been an emotionally exhausting rollercoaster and Catra was all but done with it for the time being. Her emotional meter had begun to run empty and she needed time to replenish it back up again, otherwise she would start snapping at everyone. 

(“But you’re already snappy, Horde scum.”

“No, Sparkles. I’m usually _catty_. Trust me, you don’t want to see me snappy.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Glimmer!”)

The evening meal had been hurriedly made but warm and filling. They ate, the five of them, crowded around one of the smaller tables in one of the smaller dining rooms, none of them wanting the pretence of a formal meal. Angella spent the whole meal with her piercing eyes darting between her soup and her daughter, her eyes penetrating and watchful, reluctant to let Glimmer leave her sight even for an instant. 

Bow and Glimmer were sat off to one side of the table, their elbows touching and hunched over the table. Glimmer had changed out of her ruined prom dress into a comfortable pair of pyjamas, uncaring that she was in nightwear and glad to have the thin, worn and soft material embracing her. Catra, similarly, had changed but she and Adora were back to holding one another’s hands. There had been a brief round of laughter when Adora tried to eat with her left hand, given her right was still in Catra’s grip but they continued to keep their grips and she continued to eat left-handedly. Catra had given her a look of fondness, muttered that she was an idiot but continued to hold her hand and eat her soup like there wasn’t a spatially challenged blonde to her left. 

There was a comfortable silence around their small table, broken only by the chinking of silverware on china, which meant that they all heard what happened next. With a loud crash, Glimmer’s spoon fell into her bowl, splattering soup along Bow’s arm and the table. Heads snapped to the Brightmoon princess in alarm at the sudden noise and they all saw how her fingers spasmed and tensed, clawing uncomfortably at the air. She made a painful inhale as she tried to fill her lungs with air as she was paralysed with pain. Around her, red energy crackled angrily and menacingly, arcing into Bow and causing a static shock.

Angella dropped her spoon in reaction as Glimmer flinched from her chair to curl into a ball on the floor, her limbs folded in an attempt to ease her pain. A red sheen flickered over her skin and Angella looked on in uselessness, her only daughter writhing in pain and all she could do was watch.

By the time they had descended on Glimmer in a cloud of concern, her glitching had stopped and she tried to regain her breath as she looked up on her mother and friends with bleary eyes. She could make out the concerned gaze of her mother and she tried to weakly smile in reassurance but it probably looked more like a grimace. 

Angella got the whole story from the group about Shadow Weaver and her manipulation of the Black Garnet to restrain Glimmer. Although she was tied to the Moonstone and knew runestone magic intimately, she had never seen a case of runestone interaction before. But, seeing how Glimmer was affected, at how the arcs of red lightning seemed to be battling her innate pearlescent glow. 

It took all five of them to manoeuvre Glimmer to the bench at the base of the Moonstone, well, Angella scooped her up and flew with her whilst the Horde pair opened the impeding doors. Bow had hurried off, for reasons unknown but promised he’d meet them at the runestone. When they were nestled on the bench, bathing in the glow of the Moonstone, Bow re-joined them, his arms filled with blankets and pillows. 

Despite the dark night and the cloudless sky, the air was warm in the light of the magical stone and it felt as though they were wrapped in a warm embrace: reassured and comforted. Angella and Glimmer were basking in the light, shining in tandem with the magical glow. They were recharging, regenerating and, for Glimmer, reaffirming her connection with the runestone. It would take time but the connection would reset and whilst this happened, the Best Friend Squad would be with her. 

Bow arranged the blankets around them, allowing them to camp under the warm light of the Moonstone as Glimmer reset herself and Angella gave him a grateful look. It was mildly selfish, he didn’t want to be apart from Glimmer right now, but he was sure that Angella felt the same. Glimmer was sensitive about seeming to need support; she never wanted to seem weak or that she needed help. She hated asking for any kind of quarter, and offered support was often looked upon with distrust and distaste, especially from Angella. Bow had become an expert at offering a shoulder without seeming as though he was and sometimes, it was the only form of aid that Glimmer would accept. 

Adora and Catra had taken one look at the blankets and curled themselves together in a nest in one corner. They were twined together like a knotted ball of yarn, limbs twisting to form one being as Catra rested her head on Adora’s shoulder. Adora stared sleepily across at Glimmer, head resting in Angella’s lap, and Bow perched with the princess’ feet in his lap. Despite being the smallest of all, Glimmer seemed to have stretched across the largest space, her sparkling skin absorbing the rays of the Moonstone’s energy whilst her most precious people surrounded her.

Eventually, they all drifted off into sleep, the adrenaline of the last few days catching up to them, into a healing, restful sleep. 

\--

But nothing was ever that easy.

\-- 

In the quietest hours of the morning, when even the sounds from the Whispering Woods were muted, Catra was woken from her sleep by her pillow rudely moving. She hissed with displeasure, her fingers grabbing firmly at Adora’s waist as the blonde started to move beneath her. She’d been comfortable, her head resting on Adora’s shoulder whilst she gripped her firmly around the waist and she was loathed to move. 

Opening her eyes a slit, she was met by Adora’s blue eyes, open and blank. She smiled but that quickly slipped from her face when she garnered no response from the blonde, her eyes remaining vacant. Catra waved her hand, trying to get a reaction but her stare remained unfocussed and hazy. Catra was beginning to get worried now: she’d seen Adora in many conditions, including asleep. She knew the blonde was prone to sleep fighting and readily punched her in bed as often as she had in the training room but she’d never seen her like this. Seemingly awake and asleep at once. 

Slipping from her position at Adora’s side, she knelt on the discarded blankets as she reached forwards to shake the blonde’s shoulders. Despite shaking hard enough to cause a cascade of hair to fall from her loose ponytail, she elicited no response from her and her concern morphed into fear. 

Adora wasn’t like this. 

She turned to try and rouse Bow or Glimmer, or even Angella, anyone, but there was no time as, as much as she’d been absent and vacant, Adora suddenly sprung to life. She jumped to her feet, going from supine to parade rest in an instant. She let out a shrill cry of alarm at the movement but that failed to rouse the other sleepers. Did she try to actively wake them or let them sleep? 

Before she could make that decision, Adora began striding off into the night, heedless of her lack of footwear. Catra scrabbled to follow her, scooping her faceplate and Adora’s tablet as she passed. Adora stared into the distance, her gaze unwavering as she walked straight passed her sword, leaving it strewn on the pillow without a backwards glance. She watched haplessly as Adora marched forwards towards the edge of the Moonstone’s pedestal, making no signs of stopping as she approached the high drop. 

Her heart almost leapt from her chest as she watched Adora stretch one foot off the platform and shifted her weight forwards, plummeting from the pedestal into the darkness. Catra, caring little for her own safety, immediately followed her, landing on all fours in a crouch. She looked over to see that Adora had also landed unscathed, her footsteps soundless on the ground as she headed towards the woods. 

“Hey Adora!” Catra called out, knowing it was futile but unable to hold it in regardless. She thought she heard someone call her name in response but her eyes were focussed on the disappearing blonde before her, the loose tail of her hair vanishing behind her into the tree line. If she hesitated, if she paused, she’d lose sight of her and, given how unresponsive Adora was, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to find her again. 

Choosing to catch up to her, she caught Adora’s hand in hers, feeling for the first time how cold it was. Her pale skin was almost white and she was shivering in the cool night air but, despite this, she didn’t seem as though she was awake. Squeezing her hand firmly, she tried to stop Adora’s forward momentum but she was just dragged along with her. Even when she tried to dig her heels in, she was pulled with the blonde and had a choice to follow or be dragged. 

She was at a loss of what to do; she didn’t know what was going on or how to stop it, but Adora was marching back to the very destination they had left earlier: the Fright Zone. 

“Come on Adora,” she whispered, trying to tug her back to Brightmoon, but it was fruitless. In her hand, Adora’s communicator pad lit up with an incoming call. Answering, she was met with the worried faces of the other three, crowded into the screen’s view. 

“Catra! What’s going on?” Bow asked, dark eyes worried and a frown on his brows. Glimmer peered over his shoulder, her lavender eyes concerned as she propped her chin on Bow’s shoulder. Angella hovered in the background, her mouth downturned and face studiously blank. 

“I don’t know!” she yowled, still trying to get Adora to stop. “Adora got up and started walking. I don’t think she’s even awake!” Tilting the screen to show Adora’s blank face, the others gasped in horror at the vacant gaze in the normally animated blue eyes. 

“She doesn’t look right,” Glimmer said. At that moment, she tried to teleport to them but she was still glitching, although it seemed less painful than before and was shorter in duration. 

“Have you tried to wake her up?” Angella asked and Catra nodded. “I know it’s not a pleasant way to wake up but have you tried something painful?” 

Catra paused, reluctant to cause Adora any pain for any reason but they were venturing deeper into the woods with every step, deeper into the darkened trees, deeper into the unknown. And, with every step, they were venturing closer to the Fright Zone, closer to Hordak, closer to Shadow Weaver. 

With her free hand, she reached up to the nape of Adora’s neck, a place that she knew was sensitive and filled with nerve endings. If there was a place on Adora’s body that would elicit a reaction, this would be it. 

“I’m sorry Adora,” she whispered, knowing that the blonde wouldn’t hear her but wanting to apologise all the same. And, with her hand still firmly holding Adora’s, her other one gripped the blonde’s neck firmly, her claws jutting forward to pierce the sensitive skin. A loud scream followed, as rivulets of blood trailed from Catra’s fingertips, coming from the corresponding puncture wounds in Adora’s neck. Adora collapsed forwards, her body convulsed into a ball and her forward motion stopping. 

“Ouch, Catra! Why’d you do that?!” she screamed; her eyes wide with pain as she ripped her hand from Catra’s to slap it on the back of her neck. Her blue eyes ere certainly more responsive than earlier, filled with pain and betrayal at Catra’s actions. 

After calming her down and exchanging a comforting embrace, Catra held Adora at arm’s length, hands on her shoulders so they could look each other directly in the eye. 

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. One minute I’m asleep, the next, you’re stabbing me!”

“Were you dreaming of anything Adora?” Bow’s voice piped up from the pad and, knowing she wouldn’t hear it, Catra tilted the screen so she could see the others and their concern filled faces. The blonde’s forehead crinkled as she parsed out the repeated words and thought for a moment. What had she been dreaming of?

“Shadow Weaver,” she said finally and Catra’s fur bristled at her name. “I was dreaming of her.”

“It could just be a reaction to what happened today,” Angella mused, “but did she do anything to you Adora?”

“She held her head for a while,” Glimmer said, remembering the torturously long grip the sorceress had on the blonde’s temples. Catra had explained that it was the stance taken when Shadow Weaver took memories, places, people, from Adora and left her missing parts of her past. She didn’t know Adora well enough to know if there was anything missing from the blonde’s mind but Catra hadn’t seemed like there was any cause for concern. Now, she shot a quizzical look at the feline, whose heterochromic eyes were narrowed. Catra shook her head in response. She didn’t think anything was missing from Adora’s already empty head but it gave her an idea. 

What if something hadn’t been taken, but put in?

She’d seen Shadow Weaver do much with her powers, commanding red lightning and the shadows like an extension of her own body. She’d seen her summon shadow spies, form restraints and make her darkness as solid as the earth below her. She’d seen her glean information from the most reticent prisoner, coerce the most stoic commander and erase the most precious memories.

It wasn’t unreasonable to think that something could have been put in there. 

Like a compulsion, or a beacon. 

Catra knew that the boundaries of the mind became woollier and less defined in sleep, the firm walls and barriers softened with unconsciousness. Perhaps the wicked woman had put something in there to compel Adora to return to the Fright Zone, to her insidious hands. 

Would it happen every time the blonde drifted into sleep? 

Breathlessly, she gasped her thoughts to Adora and the three on the communication pad, worried that she was wrong but just as scared that she was right. How could they stop tis from happening again? Was Adora doomed to try and return to the abusive grasp of the sorceress on a nightly basis? 

Before they could try and figure anything out, the communicator began to fritz, like the signal was lost and it suddenly went dark. Without the artificial light of the pad, the trees around them seemed more imposing and larger, growing into monstrous creatures with grasping branches. Catra, much more adept at seeing in the dark, could see Adora’s face processing the events, that she had walked out here in her sleep. She saw the exact moment Adora realised that Shadow Weaver still had a firm grasp on her mind and didn’t seem to be relinquishing it, when her face crumpled and tears began to fall from her blue eyes. 

She held her in a kind embrace, Adora’s warm breath hitching against the fur on her neck as her cold fingers twined behind her. She let the blonde sob for a while, knowing that there was nothing she change right now. Shadow Weaver had a grasp on the blonde’s mind and she couldn’t break that. She had an unknown hold over her. And she couldn’t talk to Adora right now as it was too dark for her to see.

But she could hold her, and purr reassuringly, knowing the blonde would detect the vibration and be comforted. 

(She’d always liked to be held, Catra knew that. Growing up as touch starved as they both did, they both enjoyed indulging in touch with a trusted person but Adora especially seemed to need it. She was usually the one reaching for Catra, she was always reaching out for her, initiating the contact and it was the happiest day of Catra’s short life when she allowed herself to reach back.)

In the dim darkness of the woods, with Adora wrapped in her arms sobbing, she was reminded of how this started: with a crashed skiff and two Rebels with malfunctioning technology and a sobbing Adora in her arms. And she realised that she’d made the right decision then, to take Adora away from Shadow Weaver once. 

She’d do it again. 

Ushering the blonde to her feet, her lips almost blue with cold and her teeth chattering with shivers, she herded Adora through the bunch of trees. She didn’t have a firm direction in mind but she let her feet guide her until her feline eyes could discern something different. 

Within the trees, half hidden with leaves and partially obstructed by branches, was a pale blue glow. It was the same shade as the runestone in Adora’s sword and Catra felt as though they were being led towards it by something.

Or someone. 

Brushing aside the last barrier of branches and undergrowth, the pair entered into a small clearing that seemed forgotten to everyone, even time. Although there was evidence of overgrowth along the floor with mosses and vines, the branching circuitry carved within the earth seemed pristine and the channels untouched by decay. Within the centre of the clearing was a tall, crystalline structure, acting as a focal point for all the circuits in the ground; its walls were polished and smooth, opaque despite being crystalline and rising to the sky as tall as a mountain. 

The crystal building seemed to emanate the blue light that attracted Catra and provided enough light for Adora to see by. Exchanging a look with Catra, whose ears were alert, they walked towards the front of the building. Adora’s feet were so cold, her toes were burning and she couldn’t stop her teeth from clacking against one another but she was unable tear her gaze away from the wall in front of her. 

“What’s ‘Eternia’?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're starting to deviate a lot more from canon now, so buckle up!
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> BYB x


	11. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once was chance, twice was coincidence but three times? That was enemy action. Something in this room, in this crystalline castle, was using Adora’s own memories against her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long to get out. Life has been merrily destroying me these last few months and then I had a little block but, hey: it's out?
> 
> Moral of the story: not abandoned, just a casualty of life.
> 
> As always, I really appreciate everyone's comments and kudos. Some days it feels like the only good bit of my day.

In a distant, rocky landscape, a shadowed figure crossed the stony earth silently, causing small plumes of dust to rise in tandem with their steps. They were single-minded in their crossing, loping across the horizon with frightening speed. 

They jumped over a small precipice, landing with a quiet thud and a small stirring of earth, to view their quarry. The dark purple walls rose before them, firmly closed and barring entry to everyone but, to the observer, the closed doors were no barrier and would not keep them from their goal. 

Slipping soundlessly in through a high, unbarred window, they traversed the barren hallways, their footsteps echoing despite their stealthy movement. It took many wrong turns and backtracking, but they eventually reached their prey. 

Grizzlor growled lowly in his throat as he looked at the keypad before him, keeping the door closed and preventing him access. He could try and decode the password to enter but the other option available to him was much more appealing. 

With a slash of his sharp claws, he cut through the reinforced metal like butter and created an opening through which he leapt. His thick, dark fur bristled slightly as his pale amber eyes surveyed the inside of the room, roving over the computers lining the walls and the whirring robots circling the room. In front of the computers was his target, their eyes shielded behind ruby red goggles as they peered at him curiously, but his path was blocked by the multitude of robots that came to defend their creator. One approached him, beeping inquisitively and its claw outstretched, and he stopped it in its tracks with a firm swipe. Circuitry trailing from his talons, the robot collapsed in a heap of metal, drawing the attention and anger of the others in the room.

Making quick work of the metallic opponents, he stepped through the piles of sparking machinery to the edge of the room covered in blinking monitors, seeing his prey silhouetted by the lights of the screens. Her purple hair was twitching reflexively at his presence as he towered over her. With speech slightly impeded by high pronounced canine teeth, he addressed her finally.

“Good evening, Princess Entrapta. Lord Hordak requests your company in the Fright Zone.”

\--

This whole night was making Adora frustrated and emotional. Closing her eyes in one place and opening them in another was a jarring experience but that, coupled with the sharp, throbbing pinpricks over her scar made the situation worse. She could feel how trickles of blood had dried over her nape, coating her jacket collar a deeper red and stiffening the fabric uncomfortably. She’d never been sleep walking in her life; Catra would attest that sleep fighting was something she regularly participated in but she’d never walked before. 

She knew, logically, that it was more a reflection on what had been done to her mind than any actual mental issue with her, but that just made it worse. It was _evidence_ that Shadow Weaver had done something to her. It was proof that her mind wasn’t entirely her own. 

When she’d pulled her heavy eyelids open in the Fright Zone to stare up at Catra, ears muffled and vision blurry, she knew with bone deep certainty that they’d been in that position before but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She’d suspected about her previous sessions with Shadow Weaver poking holes in her memories like fingers through tissue paper but she had no firm recollection of it. To her, it was always something she’d been told, a memory from childhood that only someone else remembered and had recounted to her. She had no solid recall of any of the process but the feeling of déjà vu she had, sprawled on the floor with her head in Catra’s arms and flashes of fingers at her temples, was astounding with its intensity. 

Part of her had always silently, secretly, wished never to have a situation like this because it meant that Catra had been honest with her. Not that she believed Catra would lie to her but because she still held a belief in her that Shadow Weaver wouldn’t do that. She still held fast to the childish belief that Shadow Weaver cared for her as a person and wouldn’t hurt her. That she was worth more to her only mother figure than her obedience and subservience. That she was worth more than her allegiance, willing or otherwise.

So, when the déjà vu hit and it proved Catra right, Adora was slammed with a mourning so intense she thought her lungs would collapse and her chest would crumble like her world was.

Getting the group out of the Fright Zone hadn’t allowed her to process these feelings, the sadness, the _betrayal_ , because there had been more important things to do. But, here in the cold, frigid forest with nothing to distract her from the pain in her neck, the coldness of her feet and the inconsistencies in her head, she had no choice but to face them. 

Shocked awake from her midnight stroll back to the Fright Zone, she had crumbled into her only support: Catra. Her partner had stared at her with such pity that she wanted to scream but she couldn’t get her throat to open enough to make the noise. It seemed to have closed at some point, constricting as though she was the one who had been collared. 

Collared to Shadow Weaver. 

Would she ever know the extent of her manipulations? Would she ever be free of her machinations? Would she ever learn what was Adora, truly her, and what was Shadow Weaver’s insidious meddling?

Would she want to? 

And, with that small betrayal of herself in her own heart, her indecision over her feelings towards the sorceress and her inability to completely shed the albatross of her, she lost all control and sobbed. Tears dampened the downy fur on Catra’s neck, matting the strands and must have been uncomfortable for her but she stayed strong for Adora. She’d managed to be a strong pillar when Adora had crumpled. And that made the blonde feel even worse.

Catra had been captured, tortured, collared and here she was, crying over a small thing? She couldn’t even support her through that ordeal; she was deluding herself if she thought she could be any kind of person Catra could turn to for help. It felt like Catra was always the one supporting her, getting into fights on her behalf, standing up for her when Adora couldn’t do it herself, believing in her when she knew she was incapable. Adora could never do that for Catra. Catra didn’t need her like she needed Catra and it _hurt_.

Even if, on the astronomically small chance, Catra did need her, how could she help her when she couldn’t even help herself? How could she stop people from hurting her when she couldn’t stop her own feet from walking back to the place she hated and feared?

How could she fully love her when she didn’t fully love herself? 

How could she fully love herself when she didn’t even know what in her mind and memories was her and what was Shadow Weaver?

Soundlessly, she followed behind Catra as she used her superior feline vision to navigate the pitch-black trees. It was a fitting metaphor for how she always felt with Catra: tripping and stumbling behind her as she watched Catra stride ahead with confidence, sure of her every step whilst Adora struggled to even blindly stumble in her wake. She couldn’t fathom how she’d made her way so deeply into the Whispering Woods without tripping but, as she trailed silently, her hand held firmly in Catra’s warm palm, she could feel all the small nicks and scratches on her feet. Her toes were freezing; she was always cold compared to Catra but right now, she felt like she’d been caught in Frosta’s attack. 

A pale sliver of light splintered out from between the trees, casting a darker shadow along the trunks as the space between them became marginally lighter. Adora looked towards it, seeing it tinting a shade of blue similar to her eyes and similar to the stone in her sword. Through the screen of bark and wood, a clearing appeared, the ground similar to both of her homes at once. Under the soft, green grass and moss that reminded her of the grounds around Brightmoon castle laid cold metal and circuitry that was reminiscent of the Fright Zone. The patina was well worn and the lines unapologetically slashing through the ground, heralding some other purpose and a grand design. 

But, at that time, all Adora could focus on was how cold it was. 

With burning toes and freezing soles, they hopped across the clearing to an immaculate building, highly polished and crystalline walls and an imposingly closed door. Scrawled across the door, in the artistic writing of the First One’s, there was something written, partially obstructed by the wending vines and partially disparaged by age. 

“What’s ‘Eternia’?” she asked, momentarily distracted from her feet, her neck, her pounding head. In that instant, her hurts were simultaneously silenced and amplified as there was a loud grumbling from deep within the earth, the ground shaking with tremulous energy. There was a shattering rumble and the doors before them parted with a cascade of dust, a cavernous maw revealing itself to them.

They stood at the entrance to a corridor that yawned underground, seeming to descend underneath the crystal monolith before them, darkened and dusty. It held a foreboding atmosphere, oppressive in its darkness and bore a weight that made the air feel heavy in their lungs. 

Briefly shocked from her spiralling negative thoughts, Adora and Catra exchanged a glance. It was still too dim in the clearing to communicate extensively, but the blonde could see the inquisitive look in the feline’s eyes and knew she was curious. 

(Curiosity was one of many flaws, Shadow Weaver had always said, her poisonous voice dripping through Adora’s ears as she watched the rest of her squad run a scenario without her. Bundled off to the side lines, unable to participate, she was forced to watch and listen as the sorceress’ honeyed venom crept up her spine. She’d never truly believed that curiosity was a bad thing and certainly not for Catra, whose eyes lit up with childlike glee at the chance to explore some new corner of the Fright Zone, but she knew what happened to flawed things in the Horde. 

She was often the brakes in their partnership; throwing caution into the wind was Catra’s role. Adora’s was to pause, analyse and stop. She had to, because if she didn’t then Catra’s curiosity would prove more of a flaw than Shadow Weaver would tolerate. It killed the cat, after all.)

Pulling back on Catra’s hand now, she stopped her reflexive leap into the dark unknown corridor. They needed to take stock of their situation: they couldn’t just go charging in without a plan of action. They were unarmed, ill-prepared and diving head first into unknown territory, it was a poor battle strategy and Adora knew this, even with her frazzled mind right now. 

It was the sort of strategy she pulled apart for breakfast back in the Horde. 

“Catra, wait,” she said, knowing she’d gotten the volume wrong when Catra winced at her words. She squeezed her hand in silent apology and got reassuring pressure back from her claws in return. “I don’t think we should go exploring in there right now.” 

Catra paused in her reflexive response. Adora always was the more cautious of the two and, most of the time, she was right. Catra knew that jumping head first into the unknown would fail any sort of Horde tactical assessment but she wasn’t concerned about strategy right now. 

Waiting to scout the corridor wouldn’t warm Adora up any faster, planning an incursion wouldn’t stop the blonde’s lips from chattering, plotting the access and egress points wouldn’t turn her toes less blue. She knew if she pointed this out, Adora would shut down faster than the canteen at one minute passed the hour, but she needed to act soon to keep her alive.

If Adora ever wanted to hold the sword that gave her hearing back, she needed warmth and shelter and she needed it sharpish. 

She looked around the clearing, the dim light being enough for her to see clearly by, and spotted a splintered branch, thick and strong. She caressed Adora’s frozen cheek with her free hand and slipped away, being sure to more slowly so that Adora could follow her with her eyes, as dim as her vision may be. Snatching the branch up, grateful to find the wood dry, she began to strike two pieces of crystal together, making sparks and lighting it on fire. Once her torch had been lit, she stalked back to Adora, the flames casting her face into deeper shadows and making her seem even more worn and tired than before with their starkness. 

For her part, Adora stayed silent, watching the approaching heat and light with a fervid intensity, her fingers twitching to move closer but her training on hypothermia management causing her to keep her distance. Instead, she reached up and pulled one of her jacket sleeves off, ripping the shoulder seam and presented the fabric to Catra. A weak smile later and her sleeve was transformed into strips, wended around the flaming torch. The fire was briefly snuffed by the fabric but quickly returned, greater and stronger than before. 

With their newfound light and heat source, the open corridor seemed less foreboding than before and they walked to the mouth, feet remaining on the frozen forest floor as they surveyed the entryway. Before she could land her raised foot onto the tiled flooring, the pad in Catra’s hand lit up and began to vibrate and trill with an incoming call. 

Both of them jumped at the sudden light (and noise for Catra), their hearts pounding in shock. They exchanged a breathless laugh at their fright, reassured when it seemed to be Bow calling them. The faces of Bow, Glimmer and Angella filled the screen, talking over each other and they seemed not to notice the call had connected

“Bow, are you through to them yet?”

“Not yet, Angella. Glimmer, stop pressing those buttons, you don’t know what they do!”

“I’m helping Bow!”

“They could be hurt out there!”

“We know that, Mum. I’ll just teleport to them.”

“No, Glimmer! It’s too dangerous!”

“Mum, I feel fine and there’s nothing I can’t beat in the Woods!”

“Glimmer, we don’t know for sure where they are and you haven’t healed fully yet.”

“I’ll be fine! And we know their last location; I can search from there!” 

“They might have moved from there Glimmer; did you think of that?”

“Of course I did, Mum! You’re being overbearing!”

“And you’re being reckless!”  
“Guys, super glad things are back to normal and I hate to interrupt,” Bow chimed in, “but the call is live again.” Adora and Catra watched in amusement, temporarily forgetting their ills, as the royal pair scrabbled to the pad , almost knocking Bow over in their urgency. With her longer arm span, Angella reached the screen first, her eyes filled with concern as her gloved hands cradled the screen. Just off camera, Glimmer pouted about her shorter arms as Bow groaned from beneath her (he’d been squashed in the mad scramble for the pad). 

“Girls, are you ok?” she asked, worried for their wellbeing, her voice tremulous. Both Adora and Catra were taken aback by the naked concern she was showing, confused.

‘Why is she so worried about us?’ Adora gestured to Catra, who shrugged in response. Their backs began to tense as they wondered if they had done something wrong, or committed a grievous error somewhere. Was that why she was so concerned? Because they’d made a mistake?

From the other side of the screen, fending off the two royals, Bow gave them a pitying, disappointed look. He had more work than he’d previously thought with these two.

“We’re fine, Your Majesty,” Adora chimed in, trying to deflect how she felt but the three on the other end simply winced. Ooph, she’d returned to titles and honorifics. Even though they hadn’t known her for very long, they all knew that Adora must be wailing inside for that return to formality. 

“Right then,” Angella continued, as though Adora’s reply hadn’t torn her to ribbons inside. She’d only just gotten Adora referring to her without her full title, and Catra was beginning to thaw around her as well but this felt like a step backwards. She tried her hardest not to take it personally, “Well, girls, where are you?” 

In the shelter of the corridor entrance, brightened and warmed by the torch, both Adora and Catra could follow the conversation well and exchanged a small look. They didn’t know where they were, unfamiliar with the Whispering Woods as they were and couldn’t pinpoint an exact location for the three on the other end. A brief flicker of despair crossed their eyes until Bow finally managed to wrestle his pad back from the royals. 

“Don’t worry about it guys,” he said, eyes warm and reassuring in a way that only Bow could achieve. “I can track your pad using mine, as long as you don’t move. Whatever you’re taking shelter in is amplifying the signal, not scrambling it like the rest of the Woods do.”

“We’re in some sort of crystal castle,” Catra said, sharply focussed eyes darting into every corner quickly. “We’re just inside the entrance but Adora’s really cold.”

“Ok,” Bow replied, his brows furrowing in concern as his eyes darted back to Adora, taking in her purpled lips and chattering teeth. “Could you get warmer if you went further inside?”

“Possibly.”

“Do it. We might lose your signal though so I’ll make a record of it. Don’t move from the castle unless you have to and try to let us know if you do.”

“Just focus on keeping safe,” Glimmer chimed in behind him, her hand resting on his shoulder as she levered on him for height. “As soon as I’m recharged, we’ll come and get you. It might be in the morning though,” The two nodded, and, with Catra asking for the pair to bring the Sword of Protection, along with some shoes for Adora, with them when they came, they signed off to preserve the pad’s battery.

Without the light of the call, they were shrouded back in flickering shadows and it was the two of them once more. Adora took the torch and the darkened pad and waited in the corridor whilst Catra ventured back into the line of trees to gather more firewood. With her arms filled with thick branches, Catra re-joined Adora and they ventured further into the unknown castle.

The crystalline corridors had high ceilings and smoothly polished walls, despite the small gathering of dust and cobwebs in the corners. Branching from the corridors were closed doors with accompanying opening panels. Some were splintered and cracked, some simply dusty and some were seemingly awaiting the right touch. 

Deeper into the corridor they ventured, until the walls bloomed into an open cavern. The crystalline walls arched upwards, curving into a peak at the centre of the room, where a crystal was suspended, presumably for the purpose of lighting. Decorating the far wall was an etched outline, a semblance of She-ra with her sword held before her, point towards the floor. 

Before her was a raised platform, hibernating with the rest of the castle, awaiting its master. It didn’t take someone of Entrapta’s intelligence to realise that this castle was inextricably linked to She-ra, their fates tied as one. The fact that the entrance was opened by a First One’s word was enough to lay suspicion and, if nothing else, growing up in the Horde was good for cultivating a strong sense of foreboding and mistrust. 

On silent feet, Catra crept forwards to examine the platform further but was stopped by Adora’s hand on her arm. She was shaking her head silently, gently pulling her back towards the entrance. 

‘Don’t,’ the blonde gestured, making use of the torch’s light reflecting off the cavernous walls as it amplified the light and facilitated their usual signalling. 

(The night’s events, coupled with the day’s events, had left the blonde mentally worn with her mind feeling as a wrung cloth. She didn’t feel like she could cope with speaking right now, her ball of anxiety spiking on a normal day. With how fresh the wounds of the day were, she didn’t think she could take talking and she appreciated Catra all the more for her acquiescence of that.)

‘I think we shouldn’t mess with anything right now,’ she continued, hands speeding through the motions and Catra easily interpreted her meaning. Without the Sword of Protection, Adora wouldn’t be able to transform into She-ra and get them out of any messes. Also, without Bow and Glimmer, their escape capabilities were reduced and, buried not so deeply, Catra was still concerned over Adora.

She was barely keeping it together, eyes wild and bruised. She couldn’t begin to know what she was feeling but could hazard a fairly educated guess. Adora, being the anxiety ridden ball of perfectionist guilt that Shadow Weaver had moulded her into, was probably feeling remorse, betrayal and sadness. And, because she could never be consistently angry at anyone beyond herself (and Octavia, which made Catra positively gleeful), she was likely to be frustrated and hurt. All aimed inwardly, of course. 

Adora imploding was much more likely than her exploding. 

Adora didn’t need more stress right now. She didn’t need exploration or danger. She needed warmth and care and attention; all the things she never afforded to herself, she needed now more than ever. 

So, although she was _burning_ with curiosity, Catra agreed and let herself get pulled away from the platform. There would be time for exploration later and they turned back to the main corridor to find an empty room they could camp in for the night. 

Back in the corridor they came down, they could see that the doors they entered through had closed behind them, sealing them in and, fortunately for Adora, the cold breeze out. If they were pushed, they could just stay in the corridor itself but a smaller room would afford more heat. Catra dropped her bundle of wood and approached one of the sealed doors, pushing on the panel, only for there to be no response. She tried again, only harder and was met with the same, infuriating lack of response. 

She looked back to Adora to see her by her shoulder, eyes furrowed in confusion and sorrow. She couldn’t see any First One’s writing there to translate so it wasn’t voice activated like the main door and her frustration was beginning to rise. This would be so much easier if she were She-ra: she’d be able to force all the doors if needed with She-ra’s strength or go back to the main room to activate the platform without concern of failure. 

She felt she was useless without She-ra, a burden on everyone. It was her fault they were even here; if she hadn’t been sleepwalking, they would be back in Brightmoon now and not in the Whispering Woods, fighting off hypothermia and her impending panic attack. Her hand reached back for her scar, still drooling sluggishly with blood from Catra’s claws to remind herself of her uselessness. 

Catra pulled her hand away, cradling her fingers gently as she looked reassuringly at Adora. “It’ll be ok. You’ll be ok, we can do this,” she said, her words slow and enunciated so that Adora could read her lips in the half-light of the torch. She wanted to refute her, wanted to shake her head at her but she couldn’t. 

Catra had never lied to her. Stretched the truth, certainly. Been creative with honesty on occasion, sure. Enriched reality, of course, but she’d never outright lied to her. What Catra said to her, she believed with her full, large heart and it was something that gave Adora hope. 

Regardless of how she saw herself, regardless of how she vacillated between anxiety and inferiority, Catra always believed in her. Although _she_ didn’t believe in herself on most days, Catra’s unwavering faith made her, at least, want to try and live up to her. 

(And that was part of why her disbelief, however fleeting and short, hurt so much in Mystacor. Why it stung so sharply and so deeply to see hesitation and indecision on her face, the face of one so sure, so faithful.)

She tried to smile back at Catra but probably achieved a pained grimace at best, evidenced by Catra’s answering frown. She pulled her hand back from her, wanting to brush her blood from her fingers, but her hand knocked against the panel as she did so. In the flickering light of the torch, it was as though a flower began to bloom on the wall.

From where Adora’s bloodied handprint was smeared against the panel, lines of livid blue raced along the walls, winding in geometric patterns lit up rapidly. Both Horde girls stumbled backwards, Adora almost falling and taking the torch with her, but her elbow was held fast by Catra, who’s eyes were fixed on the brightened wall with intensity. They watched in silence as the wall grew brighter, mirroring the colours of the lights outside the castle, until the outline of a door formed.

With a groan and a creak, the doors opened, revealing a darkened room. It was impossible to tell the size of the room, being black as pitch inside, and the walls were obscured in shadow. In the presumed centre of the room was an electric red light, penetrating and perverse as it stared at them. 

An exchanged glance between the two, Catra burning with distrust and curiosity in equal measure and Adora’s wet blue eyes miserable, and they were tentatively breeching the entrance. Once inside, the air was palpably warmer even if it smelled stale and old. The torch created flickering shadows but revealed a high ceiling and an empty room. 

Except for the red orb casting its crimson light. 

It slowly pulsed with light, menacing as it growled and it made Catra’s fur stand on end. She couldn’t help but think there was something in the room with them and the red light was reminiscent of Shadow Weaver’s unnerving stare. She wanted to leave the room. Now.

But it was warmer in here and it had warmed up even further with the torch. Adora had finally stopped shivering and her lips were no longer the same colour as her eyes. It was worth it, she thought. It didn’t matter if she was uncomfortable or on edge because of the room; it was better for Adora. 

Noting nothing on the floor, Adora had dropped the torch which was still merrily burning away, casting amber shadows, and began to cycle the edge of the room. She wasn’t sure why the room had opened for her touch but a creeping thought in the back of her mind was making her focus on it. 

Did it open for her touch or her blood? Was it responding to her or to some atavistic memory of She-ra?

Mulling over this uncomfortable thought, she cycled the room and made her way back to Catra. After retrieving the pile of wood and adding to the fire, Catra had returned to the room with a cautious stalk. Her hackles had risen and she had developed an ornery look in her heterochromic eyes, making her seem like a ruffled cat and Adora was torn between finding it cute and being concerned about why. She could hazard a guess and cast a glance back to the floating red sphere in the room, throbbing with light. She wasn’t keen to approach it and bypassed on her way back to Catra’s side.

Just as she passed it, pacing towards Catra with it to her back, she felt a warm wave pass over her body. As she was staring at Catra, she saw her eyes widen and her fangs bare themselves in aggression and it made her look to herself. A quick look showed her body glowing with red light for a beat and then, she was back to normal.

She shared a puzzled look with Catra, not feeling any difference and not seeing anything untoward. What had just happened? Quickly, she made her way back to the safety of Catra’s arms, almost collapsing into her when she turned and looked back into her own eyes. 

A mirror image had appeared where she was standing, seemingly frozen in time. It was exactly the same, from her muddied feet, to her torn jacket, to her bloodied collar. It was as though she’d been replicated from a few seconds ago, duplicated perfectly. As she stared at herself, she registered that the floating sphere had vanished, no longer bathing the room crimson. But instead, the room itself seemed to glow ominously, heralding another change.

She backed into Catra, her hand instinctively reaching for hers and was comforted immediately by the tight grasp of her claws. No matter what happened, no matter, she was sure and safe in the knowledge that whenever she reached out, Catra’s hand would meet hers. 

As they edged their way closer to the entrance of the room, their eyes were transfixed on the second Adora before them, vacant blue eyes staring at them and through them at once. As one, they turned for the door but it closed before they could reach it in a rush of hydraulics, leaving them trapped with the doppelgänger. 

“At least we’re warmer?” Catra tried to lighten the mood, having pulled Adora’s eyes away from her twin and to her lips, speaking slowly and clearly. Adora smiled weakly at the attempt, still backed into the wall with Catra, blonde hair fixed in the corner of her vision. 

Because they were watching the other so closely, both could pinpoint the exact moment something changed. As though it was a burning candle, the Adora before them seemed to melt, her features becoming indistinct and formless. Just as suddenly as it started, it stopped and the two were gobsmacked at what remained.

It was still Adora’s form before them but she had transformed into a child. It was the child of Adora’s memories, with her gapped smile and tailed hair. It was the child of Catra’s memories, with sparkling eyes and open arms. She was still staring into the middle distance, as though waiting for something, unresponsive to the world around her. 

“Adora, what’s happening?” Catra asked with her hands, Adora scrambling her mind for an explanation. She looked helplessly on at her childhood form, thoughts disrupted and drawing a blank in her mind. The room around them began to flux, morphing into something else and the wall that they had backed into seemed to vanish. They both overbalanced without the wall and collapsed in a heap on the floor. 

The cool steel floor had warped into an aged metal with prominent rivets and, looking up, they saw that the bare walls had become their barracks in the Fright Zone, complete with bunk beds and their carved faces on the wall. Scrabbling back for the wall that was no longer there, Catra pulled Adora with her, the blonde still gobsmacked. With her lack of hearing, she was slightly more disoriented by the change in surroundings than Catra and limply followed the pull on her hand.

As they were moving backwards, the Adora before them took a slow step forwards, followed by another, and another, her small steps tottering but intimidating all the same. Quicker and quicker her steps came until she was running towards them and with a leap, tiny Adora burst through their joined hands, ephemeral and insubstantial. She passed right through them, never acknowledging her obstruction, her target somewhere behind them.

With a jolt, they turned and saw the dancing tip of a brown furred tail disappearing around the corner and, with a light hearted giggle, tiny Adora was making chase after it. 

Although she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when this was as much of their formative years had been spent chasing one another through the impersonal halls of the Fright Zone, Catra instinctually knew she was seeing a memory. Why and how, she didn’t know but she knew with the cold iron certainty that it must be important somehow. She glanced towards her Adora, whose blue eyes were wide with disbelief and confusion, and gently took her hand again. Her eyes flitted back to the scene before her as she didn’t want to lose the tiny apparition before them. 

So much had happened in their life that she’d learned not to ignore certain things. Warnings from some preternatural sense, like her innate distrust and fear of certain people, were not to be ignored. Blessings from some outside influence, like meeting Adora, were not to be ignored. 

She wasn’t quite sure what this one was yet. 

Hurrying through the corridor, they could see the backs of the two girls before them, tiny Catra’s eyes dancing as lightly as her feet as she led tiny Adora on a merry chase. And, for all appearances, it was merry, with both laughing brightly as the blonde missed Catra’s tail once again. 

Catra couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment of this memory but Adora knew. They’d played this game so often; it was written in their marrow and their chases were too numerous to count but there was one that was an outlier. Catra had always danced at the edges of her fingers, laughing just beyond her reach, except for one time. 

There was once that Adora could remember where Catra hadn’t allowed her fingers to brush the fur of her tail, where she’d sped away, uncaring of Adora’s slower gait and left her behind in the twisting maze of the Fright Zone. She’d abandoned Adora to the dark corridors, to the oppressive claustrophobia of her childhood. 

(Adora could shoulder many things: she shouldered expectation, obligation and pressure easily but she couldn’t tolerate being alone. There were few things in the world that made her feel as powerless as being alone. Her deafness, her disability, could be managed; the pressures of her childhood could be buffered but only with Catra by her side it seemed. Without Catra, she was nothing. Without Catra, she couldn’t cope.)

Within those dark corridors, separated from Catra, she’d huddled and sobbed until she was found by Shadow Weaver. The sorceress had comforted her, in her own, stilted way, and reassured her as only she could. And she’d returned Adora to her barracks, where Catra was curled at the base of her bed, fast asleep. 

In the morning, Catra had asked where she’d disappeared to and Adora, unable and unwilling to admit how _lost_ she’d truly been, physically, mentally, emotionally, and had played it off that she’d had an urgent training session with Shadow Weaver. Catra’s heterochromic eyes had brightened with jealousy as she pouted about Adora’s special training, but all was quickly forgiven as they hurried for breakfast. 

But, as she watched the memory play out before her, it wasn’t matching what she recalled. Before her, Catra rushed ahead, true, but she hadn’t abandoned her. Instead, Adora watched as she unknowingly pulled ahead of her younger self, an act of ignorance, not abandonment. She watched the moment that Catra realised she’d left her behind and saw her turn to go back.

And she saw the shadows rise to block her path, preventing Catra from returning and Adora from advancing. She saw the moment Shadow Weaver rose out of her nebula of darkness to inform her that Adora had special training to attend to. Although she couldn’t hear, she knew the words being uttered by the sorceress, could feel their untruths in her bones. 

Her mind faltered at the dissonance between her memory and what was playing before her. Was she witnessing the truth, or was she seeing an elaborate lie, constructed by the castle’s advanced technology to fool her for whatever reason?

It must be a lie. 

Right?

She glanced over to Catra, who was still holding her hand firmly, to see her staring back with questions in her eyes. Catra didn’t know there was anything untoward with the scene before her; it was playing exactly as she remembered it but she saw the heartbroken look in Adora’s eyes, which tipped her off that something wasn’t right about it. She squeezed her hand, trying to reassured the blonde, and received a weak smile in return. 

No matter what happened, no matter what was wrong, she would make sure that they faced it together. She’d made that promise to Adora before, so many moons ago, and she wasn’t about to break it any time soon. 

Like rippling water, the scene before them changed. Before Adora had even had a chance to process the incongruity in her memories, she saw their forms changing once more. The tiny Adora and Catra before them morphed into something a little older, a little harder. 

A little more like the soldiers they were to become.

The dark, pipe-laden corridor transmuted into the training grounds, and they were facing one another in a sparring match. Catra’s claws were out but she playfully swiped at Adora’s head, who grinned in delight as she ducked. In retaliation, Adora swung her baton towards Catra, who curved herself out of the way in a feat of flexibility that had Adora still jealous to this day. Using the momentum of her forward bend, Catra grabbed Adora’s head and shoved her to the floor, tapping the back of her harness to register the hit.

Unfortunately, her shove was a little firmer than Adora was anticipating because she hit the floor, face first with a loud bang. When she pulled herself to her knees, there was a red mark on her forehead, a rapidly purpling bruise over her eye and she was profusely bleeding from her mouth where she’d bitten her tongue. 

Adora remembered this clearly; although the training wasn’t anything new and they’d given one another their fair share of injuries over the years, she still had a small indent on her tongue from that shove. A long-lasting memory forever tattooed on her. She’d been lectured by Shadow Weaver at the end of the session, scolding her that Catra shouldn’t have been able to land a hit on her and warning her to do better in the future. This had all occurred whilst she’d been standing at parade rest with the others, swallowing constantly as her mouth filled with blood. 

She took her instruction as she did everything else: with silent obedience, despite Catra flashing scorned and worried eyes at her: scorned that her prowess had been insulted and worried about Adora’s bruising face. After that, the rest of the squad was dismissed whilst Adora remained behind for “extra instruction”. 

Adora had no recollection of this part though, where Shadow Weaver curled a hand around her shoulders and led her out after everyone else had left. They arrived in her rooms in silence and the Adora before them unhesitatingly moved towards a chair in the corner. She was robotic in her actions, her eyes turning vacant with every forward step. Adora watched as the facsimile before her perched on the chair, back ramrod straight as Shadow Weaver came behind her.

In a parody of maternal action, she cradled Adora’s head in her hands, the young blonde staring at a fixed point on the wall and there was no reaction when long fingered hands clamped over her temples and ears. A brief crackle was all the warning the watchers received before a bright spark of energy ran between Shadow Weaver’s palms, singeing the skin on Adora’s head. 

Catra hurried a look towards her Adora, questions in her eyes but she saw the creeping horror in the blue eyes as she registered that she had no memory of the event. It was one thing to be told about something, it was entirely different to be presented with proof and forced to have eyes opened. Despite knowing that Shadow Weaver was manipulative and full of lies, Catra had always held a belief that Adora had actually received special training and treatment at her hands. To have evidence presented to her that, perhaps, Adora was just as mistreated as she was…

The truth was uncomfortable and ugly and neither of them wanted to look. 

As the Adora before them unflinchingly took her “special training”, eyes forward and a solitary tear trailing down her frozen cheek, the scene rippled once more. The one holding Catra’s hand was shaking, her sweaty palm tremulous against hers, as the scene rippled again. She wasn’t ready for another punch: she hadn’t braced herself yet.

The location didn’t change; the memory scene remained in Shadow Weaver’s inner sanctum but it transitioned from orderly and neat to disarray. Her mirror was broken, as was her door, and there was a deluge of steam from the broken pipes. There were dents in the walls and scuffmarks on the floor. 

Adora went from sitting straight backed on the chair to being sprawled on the ground, blonde hair loose around her collapsed form and blood streaming from the back of her head. Catra appeared in this memory as well, tear tracks on her cheeks and scratches around her wrist from where she was attempting to loosen Shadow Weaver’s grip on her. 

Adora had no memory of this. This wasn’t her memory but one of Catra’, however she could hear all the spoken words clearly in her mind, as though she already knew them. She watched on, a poor parody of an impartial viewer, as she saw the aftermath of her accident for the first time. Catra was in tears, fighting tooth and nail to get to her collapsed side as Shadow Weaver’s mask stared on dispassionately. 

“What did you do, you foolish wretch?” the sorceress sneered, shaking Catra’s arm more firmly. For her part, Catra remained within her grip, eyes haunted and staring at Adora’s collapsed body. With a sigh, Shadow Weaver released her and she scrambled to Adora, running her fingers tentatively around the wound, pleading with her to wake up.

“This is all your fault!” Shadow Weaver hissed, stalking forwards to the unconscious blonde as she ran her hands through the air above her. Using her magic, she diagnosed Adora as having some damage but would be unable to tell the extent with her unconscious. Lips curling with disgust, her eyes flashed towards Catra once more.

“Is she going to be alright?” Catra asked through tears.

“If you’ve ruined all the work I’ve put into Adora, I’ll personally send you to Beast Island. I’ve expended _years_ of planning on her and I’ve managed to shape her into the perfect soldier. I will see to it you hang if you’ve wasted all that.”

From her threat, Adora noticed that Shadow Weaver was talking about her as property, a possession. Not a person. And, if she was referring to Adora as a thing then, mere seconds after her wounding, then she must have always thought of her that way.

Once was chance, twice was coincidence but three times? That was enemy action. Something in this room, in this crystalline castle, was using Adora’s own memories against her. It was twisting Adora’s own recollections into something darker, something she knew to be wrong.

Or…

Or was it _untwisting_ her memories? Showing them as they really, truly were. The unfiltered, unedited, untampered truth. And what she thought was real was actually the memories as they had been doctored by Shadow Weaver. She’d always suspected, but now she had proof.

The castle was somehow revealing the extent of Shadow Weaver’s machinations to her. Revealing how she’d been emotionally isolated and gaslighted to rely on the sorceress alongside her mind actively being tampered with. It revealed how little Shadow Weaver actually thought of her, how little autonomy she’d ever possessed over her life in the Horde. 

And, with the solid proof that her mentor, her _mother_ , was not the person she’d furiously tried to believe her to be, she cracked. 

The image before them rippled one final time before settling and revealing the room in the castle they’d entered. The fire was burning in one corner, and they had been backed into one wall. The ominous red light from earlier had settled into a gentle pulse, seeming less intimidating and more comforting than before. 

All this was lost on Adora, who had collapsed into herself. She curled up next to the wall, arms bracketed on her raised knees as she cried. Her tears represented her lost childhood, her lost memories, her lost self. 

With everything that had happened this evening, she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing freely. She’d spiralled to her lowest point; earlier she’d thought herself useless without She-ra. Now, she thought herself useless entirely. Why else would she be a commodity and not a person?

But, before she could be swept away in her sorrow and grief (grief because she mourned for Shadow Weaver. She mourned for the ideal that she was, what she represented), Catra was curling around her, embracing her.

She had no way of communicating with her as she was: eyes too blurry and squeezed shut, hands shaking, but Catra was reassuring her with her presence. Warm and comforting, filling her cold heart with a tendril of heat, Catra’s arms had always been her strength. She’d always been her motivation to do better, to be better and having her there reminded her that she wasn’t alone. 

Wrapped in Catra’s warm arms, with the fire crackling to one side, she was reminded of the promise they’d made to each other when she laid on the scratchy infirmary sheets, shaken and broken. 

She never needed to hear or see Catra to know that she’d always be there. 

And, with her there, she might just get through this. She might just be able to fix the patchwork of her mind. She might just find the will to carry on.

With Catra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> BYB x

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping to update regularly but I have limited free time and an intense rota so updates may be sporadic (apologies in advance).
> 
> Let me know what you think  
> BYB x


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